


Doctor Who: Forgotten Suns

by Mr_Flibble



Category: Doctor Who Fanon
Genre: Complete original story., Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 18:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 118,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18707851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Flibble/pseuds/Mr_Flibble
Summary: Starring the Second Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe, this story takes place shortly after the TV adventure 'The Wheel in Space'."The Tardis materializes on the deserted flight-deck of an alien spaceship. Jamie, Zoe, and the Doctor tumble out, coughing in a cloud of smoke. The Tardis has been through a rough flight - the companions are relieved to be out. Until they look around..."





	1. Chapter 1

PROLOGUE

 

Jamie’s eyes twinkled in anticipation, as he surreptitiously observed Zoe while she took her first bite. The latest ‘magical mystery bar’ delivered by the Tardis’ food machine was… unusual. He was looking forward to seeing her reaction! This was the first time that - after badgering a very busy Doctor for precise instructions - he was fairly confident that he knew just what they were actually getting.

It had all been Zoe’s idea originally... that they should use one of the Tardis’ miraculous abilities for a little diversion. One that would be both ‘practical and educational’, by creating samples of each other’s favorite foods to share. Jamie had initially been reluctant to join in: never having fully believed that the strange little bricks of stuff that, the Doctor claimed, would fulfill all his nutritional requirements… were real food. True, they always seemed to taste like whatever particular meal they were pretending to be at the time; and somehow his hunger was sated. But still…

It was all well and good for Zoe! The Tardis’ newest addition and resident genius, Zoe was a wee slip of a girl from several hundred years into Jamie’s own subjective future. She had had very little trouble adapting to life with the Doctor - she actually seemed to understand what he was saying most of the time! (Even when the technical aspects spiraled into the stratosphere far above Jamie’s head.)

However, it wasn’t Zoe’s - to Jamie’s way of thinking - frightening intelligence that gave her the advantage here; it was simply the nature of life on the Space Station that she called home. Unlike Jamie, Zoe was completely comfortable eating brightly coloured jelly cubes and tablets, flakey wafers of unidentifiable protein; even pastes and liquids from squidgy little squeeze-bulbs that Jamie had totally failed to master.

None of it had looked remotely like food to Jamie, so he had been unsurprised when Zoe had first accepted one of the Tardis food-bars from the Doctor - without batting an eyelid. (He had told her that it was ‘Venusian Ichthyosaur Eggs’, or some such nonsense!) However… the young Scot’s more important (yet unstated) reason for his…  lack of enthusiasm for the idea; was an innate desire not to appear foolish before this - he had to admit it - very bonny wee lassy.

Despite his having been a resident of the Doctor’s magic box for much longer, Zoe seemed to fit into the Tardis’ futuristic world of marvels much more easily than Jamie. The food machine, probably one of the simplest devices on board, still remained a mystery to him! He could only ever remember one particular sequence of buttons to press without help! (He was getting heartily sick of porridge!) Not even a piping hot bowl of real porridge either, steaming in the crisp Highland air - but a little brown bar of… stuff.

Naturally, Zoe had either memorized the entire digital information bank of the infernal machine (in an idle moment) or, as Jamie personally suspected, the girl had such a natural affinity for all things scientific - that she didn’t even need to think about it!

Never less than honest, Jamie also had to admit to himself that - in his more churlish moments - he had sometimes entertained the notion that Zoe’s culinary successes may have had more to do with the fact that, well… The food she was used to eating didn’t actually taste of anything! (But he always gave himself a mental slap on the wrist afterwards.)

Still, being a canny lad, Jamie had soon devised a simple solution to avoid any embarrassment. When it was his turn to ‘play mother’, he simply made up the name of some traditional (yet wholly non-existent) Scottish delicacy - then punched a bunch of buttons at random. So far he had treated Zoe to ‘Bogle Pie’, ‘Kelpie Stew’, and ‘Baked Nuckelavee’!

But on this particular occasion, Jamie had pestered the Doctor to ‘program’ a genuine Highlands delicacy into the machine - whilst Zoe had been absent from the control room, of course! Despite his grumbling about having ‘much more important things to be getting on with’, the Doctor nevertheless took the time to help Jamie memorise the correct code.

Just before departing on his important business, the Doctor had turned to gaze thoughtfully at the young Highlander. With his short stature, unruly mop of dark hair, and habitually disheveled appearance - at first glance the Doctor presented a somewhat less than impressive figure. But no-one who found themselves transfixed (as Jamie was now,) by those piercing blue eyes, could fail to recognize the depth of the intelligence behind them, or neglect to notice the sheer power of his presence.

“This isn’t some little joke that you are playing on our newest travelling companion, is it Jamie?” he had asked gently, his thick dark eyebrows rising towards his fringe, fingers tented before his chin enquiringly.

Jamie was startled at the question, and then a little hurt. “Certainly not, Doctor, why would ye think that?” he asked indignantly.

“Well’, the Doctor replied in a calm, reasonable tone, ‘I just thought that this meal seems a little more, ah… strongly flavoured than perhaps Miss Heriot is accustomed to, that’s all.”

He continued gazing placidly at Jamie whilst lowering his hands to invite a response.

“Och, is that all Doctor?’ Jamie asked, considerably relieved, ‘ye’ve nae need to worry on that account - Zoe’s a braw wee lass and no mistake! It was her idea to share… how did she put it now? Oh, Aye, ‘a taste of each other culture’s’, that’s it!” He was pleased to see the Doctor’s face scrunch up into a huge grin of approval and relief.

“Oh, well that’s all right then, isn’t it!’ Beaming happily, the little man clapped his hands together and rubbed them in enthusiasm. ‘Splendid! Splendid! Now then Jamie, I really do have lots to be getting on with, so if you will excuse me…” The Doctor left the control room without another word, seemingly deeply engrossed in his mysterious work already.

 

So now Jamie watched keenly to witness Zoe’s reaction to all his efforts. (He had been feeling a little guilty for his prior deceptions!) They were not intended badly, of course, but Jamie had realized that he was cheating, and wanted to redress the balance. Her face was a picture! As she slowly chewed her first mouthful, Zoe was oblivious to Jamie’s attention, concentrating on the new flavours. Her button nose wrinkled, her mouth formed a delicate moue of distaste, and her huge eyes widened still further. “Well, Zoe, what do you think?” Jamie asked excitedly, unable to contain himself any longer.

Seemingly startled from her contemplation of the bizarre taste explosion in her mouth, Zoe schooled her features into an expression of academic concentration - a deep frown adding to the impression that she wanted to convey. “Mmmph fmff ooh mmph fmmph?” She asked Jamie, quite seriously.

“Eh?’ he responded, before adding, ‘Did your Mammy no’ tell ye’ not to talk with your mouth full, lassy?”

Zoe waved at him a little irritably as she continued chewing then, with visible effort, swallowed and tried again. “What did you call this?” She coughed politely into her hand.

“That, Zoe, is called Haggis!’ Jamie announced proudly, ‘or at least, as close tae Haggis as the Tardis can get. Do you like it?” he asked hopefully.

Zoe gazed dubiously at the rest of the Haggis bar she was holding and choked back another cough. “It’s a bit spicy isn’t it?’ Then she raised a perplexed expression towards her taller companion. ‘What exactly is a Haggis, anyway?”

Gazing down into Zoe’s trusting face, Jamie briefly considered the merits of spinning some wild yarn about the dangers that brave young Highlanders - himself for example - had to face on their first ‘Haggis Hunt’: a proud tradition upheld by generations of McCrimmon clansmen… When suddenly the floor lurched beneath them alarmingly!

Zoe yelped, but managed to steady herself by grabbing onto the food machine’s dispensing slot - whereas Jamie, unexpectedly finding his footing dropping away, totally lost balance and fell heavily to the deck with a yell.

“Goodness me!’ Zoe exclaimed, as she braced herself against the wildly vibrating food machine, ‘Are you alright Jamie? What’s happening?”

Jamie would have been unable to reply, even had he known the answer, as another jolt shook the Tardis while he was attempting to right himself. This time the movement was sharply sideways, and the young Scot found himself sliding rapidly across the floor on his - thankfully - kilt-cushioned behind. He managed to snag the edge of the hexagonal control console as he passed, hauling himself up against it by brute force. “Hang on tight, Zoe!’ he shouted as he struggled upright, leaning on the juddering surface of the console. (Careful not to press any buttons or push any levers.) ‘It seems to be getting worse!”

And indeed it was: the whole control room was now jolting and shaking most alarmingly, with the occasional violent jerk in an unpredictable direction threatening to separate the companions from their respective handholds.  “It feels like the Tardis is being shaken by a Ratter!” Jamie shouted, even though there was no more noise than the ubiquitous background hums and subliminal susurrations of normal transit… but Zoe was too busy hanging onto safety to notice.

“Does this sort of thing happen often, Jamie?’ she asked in a quavering tone of politely prim disapproval, distracting Jamie from his own struggles. ‘Or could it be something that the Doctor has done? Do you think he may have broken something important whilst tinkering with the Tardis’ systems?” 

“No he mayn’t have!’ came an indignant reply, as the Doctor staggered shakily into the shuddering control room. ‘I’ll have you know that I’ve just been catching up on some routine maintenance… that I hadn’t previously had the chance to get around to!”

Abruptly the Tardis’ violent oscillations ceased, and he looked a little embarrassed to find himself shouting in the sudden tranquility. Jamie and Zoe both turned to stare at him, each considerably shaken, and somewhat breathless. The Doctor’s attire was in even more disarray than usual, with his bow-tie dangling loosely, and one collar stuck up by his chin, but he cautiously stood a little straighter and smiled disarmingly at his friends. “Well, the old girl seems to have calmed down a little now, eh?’ He dabbed gingerly at a spot just above his left eyebrow, seeming relieved to find no blood when he examined his fingers. ‘I seem to have taken a little bash on the noggin on my way here. Still, no real harm done, thank goodness!” 

Zoe shared a look of disbelief with Jamie at the Doctor’s apparent nonchalance, stepping away from the food machine and placing her hands on her hips. “Doctor!’ she demanded in exasperation, ‘Just what is going on? What was all that about? Are we safe now?” 

“Well I don’t know do I Susan!’ the Doctor snapped irritably, ‘I’ve only just got here!”

Zoe blinked, then shot a worried look towards Jamie, who was still gripping the console determinedly. “But, Doctor,’ she said, evidently concerned, ‘my name is Zoe!”

The Doctor peered at her in genuine surprise. “Of course it is, my dear, and a very nice name it is too! Um...’ he gazed around vaguely for a moment, then snapped his fingers in recollection, ‘The fault locater! That’s what I was going to check!”

Striding briskly towards a line of computer banks set into one wall of the control room, the Doctor elaborated. “I suspect that there is no actual fault in any of the Tardis’ components or systems, but it is always advisable to check. In actual fact, after the last few days of my tinkering' - he glanced round pointedly in Zoe’s direction - ‘everything should be tickety-boo-er than ever… even if I do say so myself!’ Evidently satisfied by whatever information he derived from the computer banks, he turned towards Jamie. ‘Have there been any indications that we have arrived somewhere, whilst I was busy elsewhere, Jamie?” With a raised eyebrow, he tilted a nod at the console, and winked.

With some relief, the young Scot realized that this was one of the few technical questions regarding the Tardis’ functions that he could actually answer! Standing away from the console, he pointed towards the central column and proudly said. “No Doctor. Yon Time-Rotor thingy hasnae stopped going up and down while you’ve been away fixing things - at least, not that I’ve noticed.”

The Doctor nodded approvingly and strolled back to join Jamie and Zoe, who by now was also standing next to the six-sided console. He gazed thoughtfully at the steady motion of the complex mechanism at its center. “And of course, that being the case… I think we can rule out the possibility that we were... unfortunate enough to materialize on a planet - just as it was undergoing some kind of seismic upheaval. Which is a bit of a shame really. It would have been nice if it was something simple for a change.”

“Well, if there is nothing wrong with the Tardis,’ said Zoe, somewhat impatiently, ‘and we haven’t landed anywhere, then obviously we must have hit some turbulence! Or some other external influence that affected us in flight!”

The Doctor nodded vigorously in agreement, looking deeply disturbed. “Yes indeed, Zoe! That is exactly the case, which is what’s worrying me. You see, when we are ‘in flight’, as you say, we are travelling through the Time Vortex: which in the normal run of things would preclude our encountering anything like, um… turbulence or what-not.”

“So what did happen, Doctor?” Zoe pressed.

The Doctor looked preoccupied as he glanced from Zoe to Jamie, then back again, absently fiddling with his errant collar. “Well, I did say in the normal run of things, Zoe. In theory, whilst in the Vortex we are, to all intents and purposes, existing in a separate reality - one that should not be affected by events in real space/time. Which leads me to suspect one of two possible causes, neither of which I’m too keen on…”

“Oh, Aye? And what would they be, Doctor?” Jamie asked somewhat nervously, trading glances with a wide-eyed Zoe.

“Well… Jamie… Zoe,’ the Doctor began cautiously, looking very much as if he was thinking aloud, his eyes unfocussed in internal concentration. ‘It is… possible that the Tardis encountered a phenomena inside the Time Vortex itself. By its very nature the Vortex remains largely unknown, even to those who have spent considerably more time and effort attempting to fathom its mysteries than I have myself. I don’t mind admitting that I know far less about the subject than I should like…’

Suddenly he shook himself from his introspection and focused on his companions again. ‘However, I think it far more likely that we have experienced the effects of some... event in real time or space, so catastrophic… That it actually did impact on the Vortex in some way, and the Tardis got caught up in the resultant, ah… turbulence.” He smiled apologetically at Zoe, who beamed.

“But there must be any number of stellar phenomena that are powerful enough to affect us, if we stray too close!’ Zoe offered enthusiastically, ‘I could give you a full list if you like, but surely something like a supernova, or a black hole, would have some effect?”

“Yes, Zoe’, agreed the Doctor, ‘that is exactly what I was beginning to suspect myself! Although I don’t think that a full list is necessary, unless, um…’ he glanced towards a slightly panicked looking Highlander, ‘would you like a list, Jamie?”

“Och, no! Dinnae trouble yourselves on my account!” replied the young Scot, shaking his head emphatically, and holding up his hands in a warding away gesture. The Doctor smiled and nodded, then returned his attention to Zoe.

“As you say, Zoe, there are many fascinating natural phenomena that exert a… well, a phenomenal influence on real space/time - be it gravitic, magnetic, or some other tic that we don’t know about yet. What puzzled me at first is that here we are outside of space and time, as we pretend to understand it. But the evidence suggests that even in non-real space, and existing within the temporal chaos of raw, undifferentiated non-time: the exotic matter of the Time Vortex can be affected by a sufficiently catastrophic occurrence in space/time.”

The Doctor took a deep breath, then took the hanky from the breast pocket of his jacket. He suddenly looked rather shaken and leant one-handed against his side of the console, holding the hanky to his head with the other. “I find the entire notion deeply disturbing, I don’t mind telling you.” He sighed quietly. Zoe was immediately by the Doctor’s side, offering to soak his handkerchief in cold water. He handed it to her gratefully and smiled ruefully. “Why, thank you Zoe, that’s very kind - I do feel a little light-headed all of a sudden.’

Jamie was hovering protectively, concerned that the little man might keel over at any moment. The Doctor noticed and waved him away. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not on my last legs yet, Jamie. Just a passing dizzy spell.”

“That’s as well as may be,’ Jamie retorted, ‘but perhaps yon crack on the heid was a wee bit mair serious than ye’ ken!”

Accepting the dampened hanky that Zoe now passed to him, the Doctor refused Jamie’s suggestion that he sit down in one of the chairs scattered about the control room. “Honestly, I’m quite alright. Thank you both for your concern, but I really must study this situation further.”

“But I thought everything had settled down now - the Tardis isn’t shaking about anymore.” Zoe observed.

“Aye, that’s right, Doctor’, agreed Jamie, looking around and nodding, ‘whatever it was… well, it all seems to be over now.”

Pacing around the central console’s different faces, the Doctor was examining read-outs and flipping switches, with an almost manic air of concentration. He replied without lifting his attention from his activities. “Ah, but that’s just it, Jamie! Is it over? Without knowing what actually happened in the first place, how can we make that assumption?”

“But everything seems perfectly alright now, Doctor,’ Zoe said with a confirming scan of the quiescent control room, ‘are you suggesting that the disturbance was just a... a pre-curser of a larger event?”

“That is certainly a possibility isn’t it, Zoe? One that it behooves us to consider seriously, I think.’ The Doctor was on the opposite side of the console from Zoe by now, so she immediately noticed the puzzled frown that creased his forehead as he looked towards her - just before he became distracted by the Time Rotor in motion between them. ‘That doesn’t look right, does it?” He muttered quietly to himself as he leaned forward for a closer look.

Zoe echoed his movement, not really seeing anything different, then nearly leapt out of her skin when Jamie bellowed “Doctor!” in alarm.

He had taken a few steps back to avoid the Doctor’s frenetic progress around the hexagonal centerpiece, and was now pointing in some alarm at the podiums base.

The Doctor, clearly as surprised as Zoe had been, had almost thrown himself over the console. He turned a wounded glare on Jamie, as he tried to regain his dignity. “What in the worlds do you think you’re doing, young man?’ he shouted, looking truly angry as he patted his chest theatrically, ‘don’t you know better than to startle me when I’m concentrating?”

Jamie wanted to apologize, but settled for directing the Doctors attention to the base of the console, where thick smoke had begun to pour from vents in the support plinth and, as the Doctor allowed his gaze to follow its progress, various other unexpected places.

“Oh dear,’ he said very quietly, as he tapped his fingers together before his chin thoughtfully, ‘that can’t be good, can it?”

 

.


	2. Chapter 2

In the Command Hub of the Oortelian Hegemony’s war mantis, ‘Indigo Flame’, the massive forward view simulator was displaying a computer-adjusted visual of the distant Razorclaw Nebula; its glorious hues stunning to behold. This illusory view was not operationally necessary, but the Clade Commander had always believed that his crew drew comfort and inspiration from this… imaginary window onto the outside universe. (If, that is, they ever took the time to look up from their own stations.)

Specialist Third Palasar was studying the displays and read-out screens of the monitor banks before her intently, not because they were reporting anything new or unexpected; but simply to avoid drawing attention. She shifted uncomfortably at her duty station, but tried to keep her movements to a minimum. Her vestigial spinal quills were rubbing uncomfortably against the back-rest, as they always did when she felt tense.

At the moment, Palasar felt very tense indeed, but could not afford to lean forward over her console as she wished.

Clade Commander Silandor seemed to have a preternatural awareness of everything that happened in his Command Hub! He would, doubtless, notice her action and demand a report; assuming that she had seen something noteworthy. Normally, as with most of the personnel assigned to hub duties, Palasar found comfort and re-assurance in the knowledge that the Commander and his senior officers were there. Both to act on her reports, and to take responsibility for those actions. Indeed, the very design of the hub reflected the hierarchical preferences of the Oortelian Hegemony; with Tec-Ops and Mission Specialists manning posts in the operations trench surrounding the higher Command Deck.

This was a sensible arrangement, Palasar felt, allowing all stations to be simultaneously monitored by more experienced personnel, if they wished. She was comfortable in the knowledge that she could relinquish responsibility so easily, should the need arise; and she found the repetitive mechanical background sounds, the calmly competent murmur of inter-ship communications… Pleasantly soothing. But most of all Palasar liked the tangible presence and authority of the Clade Commander himself. Although she rarely saw him from her post in the trench, Silandor’s calm and confident voice had come to represent the pulse of the ship to Palasar, and she could read that pulse well.

Right now he sounded quietly, and calmly, furious.

“I will not tell you again, Valmik. You and your counterparts have no place on the command deck, and my Hub is not the place for this discussion. You will remove yourselves, with haste, and return to the science decks assigned to you. Your concerns are duly noted, yet again, and will be addressed presently. Dismissed!” Silandor did not raise his voice once whilst giving these commands, but deliberately used his impressive bulk to intimidate the three Enclave representatives; stalking towards them in a predatory fashion.

He usually found this to be a most effective tactic.

Like all of his species, the Oortelian Clade Commander appeared to be of reptilian descent; but whatever their origins, the Oortelians had long since evolved to the bipedal plateau so common to sentient beings across the universe. Silandor’s finely scaled epidermis, where visible outside of his uniform, was a deep blue-black at the moment; evidence of his tightly controlled anger. In startling contrast, his eyes were bright lime-green orbs blending into yellow sunbursts, with cross-shaped pupils.

He fixed those orbs on one of Valmik’s companions, who looked about to protest, then lowered his head towards the shorter man, sharp teeth glinting. “I… said… dismissed….” The Commander hissed.

Very. Very. Quietly.

This finally seemed to get the message across. The three civilians; their colourful facial markings expanding and coalescing in varying degrees of anger, embarrassment - even alarm! - retreated. Silandor continued watching them through narrowed eyes, as they made their way across the rear of the command deck to the exit portal. Then, as he’d expected, Valmik turned back to face him. “Apologies if we caused any disturbance Clade Commander Silandor, but you must understand…”

“What I must, Archivist First Valmik,’ Silandor interrupted, ‘is my concern and no-one else’s. But…’ he offered in a more conciliatory fashion, ‘I do actually understand why you are constantly intruding into my domain: being this close to a possible ‘Ship of the Ancients’… However, Indigo Flame is my ship, no-one else’s, and when I say that you must trust me, believe me… you must.”

Valmik studied Silandor closely for a moment more, then slowly blinked his nictitating membranes in acknowledgment. “Naturally, Commander. You will try to keep us informed, I trust?”

Silandor locked eyes with the man. “I have said this. It shall be so.” He confirmed formally - just before the portal irised closed, blocking Valmik from view - and from the hub.

Unfortunately, the Commander believed that he did understand, at least to some extent. These men and women, all these differing enclaves and cadres of scientists, researchers, and theoreticians: they and their ilk had spent decades to arrive at this point. Indeed, this moment promised the culmination of generations of hopes and dreams to them; if one was of a mind to take that point of view. However, that did not excuse breach of protocols or circumvention of procedures; and his command hub was no place for civilians - or their sometimes disturbing speculations and theories.

Bands and whorls of muted colours coruscated across his features as he slowly calmed himself, and by the time he turned to survey his crew he was a more seemly - more natural - colour. A rich, deep blue; reminiscent of the oceans of Oortelia at his favorite time of year, in fact.

As he had anticipated, the senior crew were efficiently carrying out their duties, having studiously ignored the intruder’s attempted interruption once again. Only Sub-Commander Talamane was not at a duty station, but it was her habit as Second Spear to roam around all levels of the hub ‘tasting the air’, so this was nothing unusual.

No, he was more concerned about the lower ranks in the operations trench. The junior members of his crew were more prone to such distractions; they seemed to soak up his moods by some arcane form of osmosis, however hard he tried to school his emotions, or curb his irritations. It was a humbling responsibility.

“Do you want me to prepare a report for presentation to our honoured passengers, Sir?” Talamane murmured, as she came to stand beside him.

“No,’ he responded brusquely, more concerned by the level of tension that seemed to be permeating the junior personnel, ‘it would only be the same as the last report, and the report before that. They don’t seem to understand reports. Walk with me.”

Avoiding his Command Podium and its ostentatious throne by habit, the Commander led Talamane to her nominal duty station at the edge of the command deck; over-looking the section of consoles currently being supervised by Specialist Third Palasar. They both studied the information displayed. The young female was handling her duties efficiently enough, but Silandor noticed a slight stiffness to her shoulders - perhaps a little exercise in morale-boosting was called for. Not just for this child, but her crewmates also.

After a brief moments consideration, he commanded, not unkindly, “Specialist Palasar, station status report, if you please.”

The crewman stiffened still further when she heard his voice, but controlled her responses swiftly.  (Earning an unseen blink of approval from the Sub-Commander.)  Palasar calmly swiveled her seat around, then stood to attention.   “Clade Commander Silandor,’ she barked, staring him directly in the kneecaps, ‘it is my privilege to report that all my systems are operating at peak efficiency! All monitor feeds show that projected timeframes are being met, and that there is no reason to believe that breakthrough cannot be achieved on schedule, Sir!”

Suppressing an urge to laugh, the Commander sank to his haunches to imply camaraderie, instructing the petrified youth to be at ease. “Relax for a moment, Specialist! Why don’t you… using plain language, please… why don’t you just tell me what we are doing here?”

“Don’t you know, Sir?” Palasar asked in alarm, caught by surprise. She risked a startled glance at his face for the first time, then wilted visibly as she realized what she had just said. This time Silandor did laugh. Long and hard - and it felt good!

Palasar was mortified! Although she tried not to betray any of her panic in her stoic stance, inside all she wanted to do was curl up into a fetal ball, and crawl back into the egg from which she’d hatched. What a stupid thing to say! At the same time, some deep part of her felt buoyed and lifted by the Commanders good humour, even if it was at her own foolishness. Glancing sternwards along the trench, she noticed that those junior crewmembers, within the range of her vision, also seemed to be relaxing slightly. Some even smiled in her direction, politely not revealing their teeth. Tec-Op Ursulon even winked at her - as if sharing a joke.

Although she didn’t understand why, Palasar felt her panic recede slightly, and her tension eased by increments. She stood with new found confidence, determined to accept her dismissal from duty with dignity and grace; and so was totally unprepared for Commander Silandor’s next move.  He actually leaned forward and placed a hand on her shoulder! She tensed involuntarily, expecting to feel the bite of claws, but he merely gave her a firm, comradely grip of reassurance and said, “Thank you, Specialist Palasar - I needed that!”

And then, against all precedent, the Clade Commander of the Oortelian Hegemony’s war mantis Indigo Flame, himself… sat down at the edge of his command deck and began a quiet conversation with her.

 

The Clade Commander’s instructions had been simplicity itself to implement, once Palasar began collating her data. She had initially felt some trepidation at being told to prepare this briefing; not because she doubted her own abilities, but because she had so little experience with non-military enclaves. She liked the ordered structure of her own enclave; a place for every Oortelian and every Oortelian in her place.

The science enclaves, however - particularly those of the softer sciences - were not composed of individuals hatched for their own particular specialty. Instead… and this is what usually made Palasar so nervous in their company - these people had chosen to join their particular calling. Commander Silandor had likened them to children at play, always changing their minds about what they wanted. “But never make the mistake of underestimating them.’ He had cautioned, ‘they may seem as fractious and undisciplined as hatchlings, but in many ways that is why they are so important to the Hegemony. Never forget that these are very, very clever people.”

Now, having sacrificed half her duty shift and a sleep-cycle to this task, Palasar stood watching Technical Operative Imanol as he fussed over his equipment. Tec-Ops were never satisfied, she mused. Actually, it had been a pleasure working with someone as knowledgeable and enthusiastic about his own specialty as she herself. Imanol had taken great delight in explaining everything, as he converted her data into visual representations. The Visi-Sphere was a further development of the technology that provided the screen dominating the Command Hub, now with the ability to present a three-dimensional virtuality within its globe.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that Imanol was rather an attractive young male, not that much older than she was.

Turning on the spot, Palasar examined the room she had been given for this presentation, idly wondering as to its original function. Following a similar design aesthetic to the Hub itself, it had a circular central platform ringed by rising tiers of seating. Perhaps it was actually intended as a place of entertainment, although she could not imagine what kind, preferring a less ostentatious location for her own amusements. This place lacked the bonhomie and cordiality of shared crew areas.

But there was no denying that everyone would have a good view of the Visi-Sphere, and Imanol had assured her that he had checked the rooms acoustics when installing his pet - he had deemed them ‘adequate’. Checking her chrono, Palasar noted that the appointed time was rapidly approaching. Moments later, precisely on schedule, one of the four entry portals irised open and the Clade Commander himself strode up to join her on the platform.

He exchanged a confident glance with Palasar then, almost negligently, gave Tec-Op Imanol the hand-gesture for ‘at ease’ - the boy had sprung to rigid attention as soon as he had realized that Silandor was present. The Commander then also stood at ease, looking for all the worlds as if he was settling in for a long wait. Palasar had been slightly concerned that some of the enclaves might turn up before he did, so his presence bolstered her confidence - but she couldn’t help but be puzzled - it was now almost 0.5 decads after the presentation had been due to start!

Commander Silandor noticed her confusion - the coloured mottling of her face must have betrayed her; and to her chagrin he appeared on the verge of laughter once more. Fortunately, to her great relief, he merely leaned in her direction and murmured, “Relax Specialist, they will be here - in their own good time!”

A full five decads later the room was full. Palasar had spent that time in a state of almost horrified fascination as, with no discernable cohesion or sense of urgency, representatives of the various enclaves aboard the Indigo Flame had strolled in. They arrived in dribs and drabs: little knots of people that displayed no particular adherence to rank or affiliation. Rather: as they meandered casually through the various entrance portals, most deeply engrossed in conversation, they appeared to seat themselves purely on the basis of personal friendships.

She saw Archeologists comfortably sharing space with Theologians: Historians engaged in animated debate with Philosophers, and quite a few enclaves or cadres that she didn’t immediately recognize from their clothing. The only group that appeared to be making a deliberate effort to sit together was the Archivists, which Palasar found unsurprising. Clade Commander Silandor had made a particular point of mentioning that the Archivists believed themselves to be the repository of all the collected knowledge of the Oortelian Hegemony; and therefore superior to all others. So it was perhaps inevitable that Archivist First Valmik was the last to arrive - and he made a great show of seating himself at the very front of his enclave.

Taking this as his que to start the proceedings, Commander Silandor stepped forward and began to speak. Palasar was pleased to note that his rich, powerful, command tone had the exact same effect on these disorganized intellectuals, as it had on his own crew. All conversation ceased and suddenly there was no-one else in the room of any importance. (One day she would learn how to do that, she promised herself.)

“Honoured Guests,’ The Clade Commander began, emphasizing their status as passengers, ‘I truly appreciate your condescending to attend this briefing - which you have insisted upon so vociferously, for so long. In fact, I feel humbled that you have taken the trouble to attend at all. You have my thanks. Really.’ Silandor allowed his gaze to sweep the room, meeting his audience eye to eye. Few of them were able to challenge that look. ‘I have invited you here for one reason only. You are to be instructed on the progress that we have made with the derelict, that which many of you believe to be a craft of The Ancients. I do not wish to dispute your beliefs, indeed, I hope to share them!’

Silandor paused, ‘But… it falls to me as Commander of this mission to maintain a distance from hope - I must protect my crew - I must protect all of you. This is why our progress may seem slow to you, and I do honestly understand your frustration. Hopefully, Specialist Third Palasar will be able to explain our procedures - and our caution - more clearly.” Beckoning her forward, the Commander took a seat over by Imanol.

Although grateful for his presence, Palasar wished that he had not chosen to begin the proceedings in such an adversarial fashion. Many members of her audience looked distinctly offended, and she couldn’t really blame them.   Suppressing a sigh, she began her presentation.


	3. Chapter 3

In a dimly lit and starkly utilitarian corner, an area that seemed to hold no special significance…

The sepulchral silence was suddenly assaulted. An invasion of sound that could be interpreted as the battle challenge of some ethereal leviathan - perhaps clawing its way through dimensional barriers - was accompanied by a small flashing light, above an intermittently flickering rectangular shape. As this sonic attack reverberated its warning to all and sundry, a tall blue box faded in and out of existence. Then - with a final thump of solidity - the Tardis anchored itself to reality.

Almost immediately, a wall of thick white smoke billowed out from between the Police Box and the blank metal wall it was now facing. The sound of a meaty collision was followed by a muffled Gaelic curse, then a choked voice cried out. “Mind your heid, Zoe! There’s something right in front of the door - Ooof!”

“Yes, you, you daft fool! Can we get out of this smoke, please? I can’t breathe, and I can’t see a thing!” 

“Dinnae fash yourself, Zoe,’ Jamie said, trying to sound reassuring, ‘we just need to get out from behind the Tardis. Hang on tae me, lassy!” There followed the sounds of scrabbling struggle, accompanied by more complaints; then the figures of the two companions coalesced out of the roiling banks of smoke.

As they staggered further out of this choking miasma, Jamie and Zoe alternately waved away smoke, or doubled over coughing; simultaneously trying not to lose their grip on each other. After several more stumbling steps, they reached reasonably clearer air. They paused to gasp in much needed breaths, still choking slightly. Zoe dabbed at her eyes with the sleeves of her utility suit, as Jamie bent over to rest his hands on his knees. “Heaven’s!’ Zoe exclaimed, slowly regaining her equilibrium, ‘that was much worse than the first time - and I thought that was bad enough!”

“Aye’, Jamie agreed with deep feeling, now taking in great lungful’s of the fresher air, ‘I would no’ like to go through that again in a hurry!’ He grinned up at Zoe ruefully before standing upright, rotating his arms and upper body experimentally. ‘I feel like I’ve got bruises on ma’ bruises!”

Zoe laughed in a sudden release of tension. “You can say that again, Jamie! It was rather like being in a spaceship crash simulator…’ she grinned up at the young Scot ironically as she rubbed her bottom, ‘but without the safety straps!”

Jamie’s admiration for the petite girl’s resilience and bubbly personality increased - he couldn’t imagine how Victoria would have coped with such an experience!  Apart from her wildly mussed hair, Zoe appeared to be none the worse for wear. Even her outfit from the space station was immaculate - must be woven from some futuristic space-cotton, Jamie mused. “Well, I dinnae ken what that is, Zoe,’ he quipped, ‘but I’ll no’ being trying to find out any time soon! If the Doctor hadnae managed tae land the Tardis when he did…”

Jamie broke off in mid-sentence and suddenly gripped Zoe’s arms, as they simultaneously came to the same horrified realization.

“The Doctor!” They shouted in unison.

As they turned back towards the Tardis, Zoe was surprised to note that she could only just see it, a vague shadow in the smoke and gloom. They must have fled further than she had thought. Jamie, not so given to rational observation, simply charged back towards the noxious cloud, yelling for the Doctor. He only narrowly avoided being clobbered across the head for his troubles.

The Doctor was emerging with his handkerchief clamped firmly across his nose and mouth, and his eyes screwed tightly shut. He was swinging his free arm around with abandon, only risking an occasional peek through one eye to see if he was clear of the fumes. Jamie leapt aside with alacrity, and then grabbed the little man by the shoulders as he passed; mainly to prevent the Doctor from hitting Zoe as they approached her. As Jamie brought him up short, the Doctor removed the dubious protection of his handkerchief from his face, instead using it to wipe his streaming eyes. “Oh Zoe! Oh Jamie! Oh My Giddy Aunt! That was quite exhilarating, wasn’t it?”

Then he collapsed back into Jamie’s arms, and passed out.

 

Fortunately, the Doctor wasn’t unconscious for too long.

Jamie had lugged him further into their dim surroundings, too concerned for the Doctor’s welfare to notice just where he was going. Zoe, looking very worried indeed, had insisted that Jamie hand over his jacket. With it she made a cushion for the Doctor’s head; remarking that she had never seen him look so still. True, it had been very unnerving to see the Doctor’s face - usually so expressive and animated - looking so pale and lifeless. However, although it had seemed much longer, it was only a matter of moments before he yawned hugely and stretched out his arms, as if awaking from a satisfying nap.

As the Doctor sat up, Zoe couldn’t prevent herself from asking if he was alright, and he answered with a huge smile. “Never better, Zoe! The recuperative benefits of a little snooze can be quite remarkable, I so often find! Ah, thank you, Jamie, most kind.” He added, as the brawny young man offered him a hand up.

With the Doctor on his feet again, Jamie retrieved his jacket and shrugged it back on. “I’m sorry, Doctor, I thought you were right behind us.” He apologised, feeling very guilty.

“Not to worry, Jamie! I just had to double-check that the Tardis had activated her self-repair circuits, after the clever old thing managed to land us here… I must have got a little turned around in the confusion! I’m the one who should apologise.’ He looked contritely at Zoe’s still concerned expression and added, ‘I’m terribly sorry if I alarmed either of you.”

“Now!’ He exclaimed suddenly, causing Zoe to jump as he clapped his hands together firmly, ‘let’s find out where ‘here’ actually is, shall we?” He peered about with an expression of enthusiastic interest, but this slowly dropped from his face to be replaced by puzzled confusion. “Hmm… I’m not quite sure what to make of this. I have a rather unpleasant suspicion though - I do hope I’m wrong…”

Jamie and Zoe were also looking about for the first time since escaping the Tardis, having been somewhat preoccupied previously. Now that the door to the police box had been closed by the Doctor, the smoke was dissipating quite rapidly; and either their eyes were adapting to the gloom, or the light level was increasing very slowly. They were looking out across what appeared to be the deserted bridge of some type of vessel - they were standing at the back. There was a central chair some distance in front of them, with a curved instrument panel fronting it, and beyond that were several more. However, these were all facing panels that were built directly into the walls, which also curved round as if to center attention on the first seat.

“Well I dinnae fancy meeting the Sassenach that sits in that chair!” Exclaimed a slightly stunned Jamie, breaking their silence.

This seemed to stir Zoe from a shocked trance, and she turned to the Doctor. “Are we on a spaceship for giants?” She asked him in wide-eyed incredulity.

“Hmm?” He enquired in response, still deep in thought. “Oh, I’m sorry, Zoe. Yes, it does look rather like a spaceship control room, doesn’t it? Although we could just as well be on a submarine… or in some kind of underground installation… But ‘giants’, Zoe? I’m not too sure about that!”

Jamie had been slowly covering the distance towards the central chair, which he guessed Zoe would have probably called a ‘pilots’ seat’; but he turned back with a disbelieving laugh when he heard this. “You’re no’ being serious, Doctor!” He gestured up at the huge shape looming in the dimness behind him, ‘that thing wasnae made to be sat on by the likes of us!”

Zoe agreed as she walked towards him. “Yes, Doctor! If that’s a pilots’ seat - and it certainly looks like one to me - then the pilot must be huge!”

The Doctor glanced back over his shoulder at the Tardis before replying. Now mostly clear of smoke, his time machine looked disconcertingly small tucked away in its corner. He got the uncomfortable impression that the ship was trying to hide. “In comparison to ourselves, Zoe, yes - very much so. However, I’m just a little worried that it might actually be us that have been reduced in size.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Doctor! That’s preposterous!’ replied a startled Zoe, ‘Whatever do you mean?”

“Aye,’ Jamie chimed in with his support, ‘I dinnae feel any different.”

“Well, you wouldn’t, Jamie… None of us would.’ The Doctor replied, strolling over to join them in examining the oversized seat. ‘But I have actually experienced just such an occurrence as I’m suggesting… once before…’ Checking that he had their full attention, he began to explain. ‘It was fairly early on in my adventures, when I was travelling with my granddaughter. Ian and Barbara were there as well. They were the first people I had ever, er… allowed aboard the Tardis, other than Susan, of course.”

This peaked Zoe’s interest. “Susan?’ she asked, ‘You called me Susan back in the Tardis, Doctor.”

He blinked at her. “Did I really, Zoe?” His curiosity seemingly genuine.

“Aye, you did Doctor! Just after you banged your heid!” Jamie confirmed helpfully.

After nodding thoughtfully at his young friend for a moment, the Doctor turned back to Zoe, smiling gently. “Well that explains everything, doesn’t it, Polly! Obviously I was momentarily discombobulated!” Zoe was on the verge of protesting once more, when she noticed that his smile had turned into a cheeky grin, and there was a distinctly naughty twinkle in his eyes.

Rolling her own eyes at Jamie, Zoe let out an exaggerated groan, then smiled back at the Doctor - quite pleased that he felt well enough to tease her. He had evidently enjoyed his little joke as well, but quickly returned to his explanation.  “Anyway, as I was saying: Ian and Barbara were from your own planet Earth; fairly equidistant between your two time periods, as it happens. They were always pestering me to take them home, and to their own time. I did try for quite some time actually, but you at least know what the Tardis is like, Jamie…”

He jabbed Jamie’s chest with a finger for emphasis. “It’s not as if I could just drop them off at their parent’s house - for a nice cup of tea and a slice of cake - at a moment’s notice, is it!”

“You do seem to have a little trouble with the steering now and then, Doctor. Aye.” Jamie replied with a perfectly straight face.

“Yes, well, we needn’t dwell on that, need we,’ the Doctor said with a surreptitious glance at Zoe, ‘the relevant thing is that I did manage to get them back one time - but we were all reduced to the size of insects. Very small insects, in fact! Oh, the circumstances were much different, of course - I won’t trouble you with the details - but we had quite a time of it, I can tell you!”

“So how did you get back to your normal size then?” Asked a very dubious looking Zoe.

“Oh, that was all sorted out when we managed to get back to the Tardis!” he replied, airily waving off her skepticism.

Jamie was now indignant, in addition to being confused. “Well, that’s nae problem then, is it? We just wait for the smoke to clear, then get back in the Tardis!”

The Doctor looked up at him glumly. “I’m afraid it’s not quite as simple as that, Jamie. You were in there, you heard those terrible noises that started up during the second disturbance. The Tardis was in deep distress! More so than I have ever heard before. Her temporal engines must have been under an enormous strain - in fact, I’m almost surprised that she managed to materialize at all. No, I fear that she won’t let us back in until she is good and ready. For the moment, Jamie… Zoe… I’m afraid that we are stuck here.”

 

Archivist First Valmik was finding it increasingly difficult to curb his impatience.

The young woman was giving a perfectly adequate and, admittedly, fairly brief recap of events to date. But was it really necessary? He already knew how long the Indigo Flame’s journey here had taken! Hadn’t he been aboard her the whole time, for Oortelia’s sake?

And as for the Visi-Sphere presentation so far; well… while he was willing to concede that the technology was quite impressive, they had been shown nothing new yet. It simply showed the Ship of the Ancients - and yes, he firmly believed it was just that - as it could be seen from any view-screen onboard. (Albeit in three dimensions.) In fact, Valmik had even looked upon the ship with his own eyes, having taken the trouble to book time in the observation blister; but that had proven most unsatisfactory.

Silandor’s ignorant insistence on taking up station so ridiculously far from the object of their quest, had made it all but impossible to see! (Unless that was the intention - Valmik would not put it past the Commander to be running some kind of subterfuge!)

As if that wasn’t galling enough, whenever any members of this learned audience offered to share their superior knowledge with the girl on stage, Silandor promptly shot them down in his customarily rude and obnoxious fashion! Blast the arrogance of the man!

In his pig-headed ignorance, he simply refused to show due respect to the experts and thinkers behind this voyage of discovery. He seemed blissfully unaware that ‘his’ mission only existed because of them! Silandor clearly considered himself the most important man aboard; an assumption diametrically opposed to the Archivist First’s own understanding of the situation.

Suddenly Valmik noticed that the representation within the Visi-Screen had changed and, cursing inwardly for allowing himself to be distracted by his own resentment, he leaned forward in his seat to pay closer attention.

 

Palasar found, much to her surprise, that she was actually enjoying playing the role of knowledge-sharer. True, there had been some uncomfortable moments during her initial summary - these ‘very, very clever people’ were a little bit scary.

They seemed completely unable to resist shouting out extraneous information; or suppositions and speculations superfluous - at least as far as she was concerned - to the purposes of her oration. Fortunately the Clade Commander had been there to forestall these interruptions, advising them all in his usual forthright manner that this was ‘merely a report on progress made to date’. The ‘undoubtedly important speculations’ of the enclave members would ‘only slow down these proceedings’ - and he was sure that they didn’t want that to happen. In fact, he had been unusually restrained and polite, Palasar thought.

Now she was approaching the meat of her demonstration. Information that had previously been treated as ‘sensitive’; and she could sense an elevated level of attention from her audience. Up until now the Visi-Sphere had simply displayed a representation of the ‘derelict’, as most of the command crew referred to the strange ship in private - out of ear-shot of the civilians.

It really didn’t look all that impressive, bereft of any points of reference, any indication of scale. Just a dirty grey-green metal hulk; perhaps vaguely reminiscent of the large aquatic mammalian prey-beasts, once so prevalent in the oceans of the home world. The main bulk of the vessel was just a rounded brick shape, flaring out at the rear to - it was assumed - enclose the propulsion systems. More interesting, to Palasar and her crewmates at least, was the stream-lined blister that almost seemed to have grown - or possibly been extruded - from the ships prow; then extended spine-like along the dorsal surface. Still, she thought, nothing had been shown that they weren’t all familiar with by now.

No. What had grabbed everyone’s attention was when, at Palasar’s instruction, Tec-Op Imanol manipulated the controls on his pet! Suddenly a representation of the Indigo Flame was alongside the ugly hulk, and there could not have been more of a contrast. The war mantis was sleek and threatening; her streamlined curves and imperatives totally arbitrary in a space-borne craft. Her resemblance to an oceanic hunter/killer beast was purely down to aesthetics; and the innate desire of her creator’s to impress.

Next to this ‘Ship of the Ancients’, that desire was quashed quite effectively.  The massive vessel was at least three times the size of the Flame and; even in the illusory confines of the Visi-Sphere, her apparently total lack of interest in the war mantis was daunting - to say the least. “As you can see, Honoured Elders,’ Palasar announced into the silence, ‘it is one thing to ‘understand’ in intellectual terms - but the Ship of the Ancients has been an enigma to us - even since we approached sensor range of its postulated location.”

Seeing that she had her audience enthralled, Palasar indicated to Imanol that he could follow her voice cues from this point on. Indigo Flame promptly vanished from the sphere. “The first puzzle that we encountered was, initially, put down to a malfunction in our sensor arrays. It is known from primitive visual records - received from probes sent out by our predecessors - just what our objective looked like. Although it was not possible to determine the size of the vessel, members of those enclaves specializing in Astrophysics, Orbital Mechanics, and other such subjects…’

Here Palasar paused to offer a slight bow of respect towards her audience, and was pleased to see some blink their nictitating membranes in acceptance. (Surely it couldn’t hurt to acknowledge the part that these proud people played, after all.) ‘…expertly managed to calculate and predict the location that the der… that the Ship would occupy by the time we could… intercept. However, on reaching the anticipated sensor contact range, all that our instruments read was a void in space. Like nothing we had ever encountered before.” Perhaps superfluously, the Visi-Sphere now showed visuals of these sensor readings as Palasar spoke, but no-one was paying them much attention - instead listening intently to her words.

After all, this information had been kept from them previously, suddenly what she was saying was new! “It was decided at this time to, ah… ‘limit’ the access of non-military personnel to the telemetry…” Clade Commander Silandor suddenly stood from his seat and interrupted her.

“Naturally, that was my decision, and I stand by it. Whilst I accept full responsibility for keeping you all in the dark, I make no apology for it. Specialist Third Palasar’s report may well give you the impression that I was overcautious; indeed, perhaps I was. But I trust that you will understand why I acted as I did, and put behind you the frustration that you justifiably felt at the time.’ Having said his piece, Silandor resumed his seat and folded his arms across his broad chest, clearly indicating that he neither invited - nor expected - a response. ‘Please continue, Specialist.” He allowed, tilting his head towards her.

“Thank you, Commander.” Palasar said, to cover her slight disorientation at the interruption.

She decided to draw everyone’s attention to the Visi-Sphere, indicating it with a wave. “As you can see, all the information was recorded, and you will have full access to study it at your leisure. After this briefing, which I will try to keep as short as possible.’ This statement seemed to meet with the approval of most of the audience. Some angry and affronted faces still lingered, but Palasar felt slightly more confident as she continued. ‘However, as we came into visual range it became clear that the sensors themselves were not at fault. The ship was quite evidently there - it just didn’t register on our instruments.’

Palasar waited until the murmurs of surprise faded. ‘It was as if she was shielded somehow, so the decision was taken to send a small party to conduct a physical examination…”

“You put people on that ship without informing us!” Startled by this enraged outburst, Palasar turned to see Archivist First Valmik on his feet - quite literally shaking with rage. Thankful that her preparations had included acquainting herself with each enclave’s First, Palasar replied more calmly than she might have expected.

“Please, Honoured Elder, resume your seat and I shall endeavor to explain…”

“This is outrageous!’ he interrupted again, taking a step forward, ‘You have - assembled here before you - some of the finest minds in the Oortelian Hegemony! You did not think it prudent to even consult us before taking such precipitate action, Silandor!” Valmik addressed this last to the Commander, as he came to stand beside Palasar.

“I can understand why you feel angry, Archivist First, but I will not have you haranguing a member of my crew.’ Silandor motioned Palasar to take a step back, then continued speaking in a tone that, although quiet, commanded attention ‘I believe I have already explained my reasons for keeping you ‘out of the yolk’, as it were - perhaps I was not clear enough. As you have just heard, we had encountered an unknown situation…”

“But surely that is why we should have been informed - and included in studying it!” Valmik exclaimed, refusing to be intimidated by the larger man.

To Palasar’s surprise, the Clade Commander began nodding in agreement. “Although you may find it hard to credit - I have come to that conclusion myself… With the benefit of hindsight. However, I was dealing with events as they occurred. The safety of everyone on board this ship had to be my first priority. We now know that this area of space, and the Ship we have travelled so far to find, appear to be no more dangerous than everywhere else in space. Perhaps we could have made progress faster with the assistance of the great minds gathered here…’ (The Archivist First looked as surprised at this admission as Palasar felt.) ‘Still, that egg has been cracked - does it really benefit us to brood on it?”

He sighed. “Specialist Third Palasar, here, has spent quite some time preparing this presentation in chronological order, to lead up in a coherent fashion to what I am about to tell you.’ The Commander smiled at Palasar, and she nearly fainted when he addressed by name instead of rank. ‘My apologies, Palasar. I suspect that you wanted this to be a surprise for your audience - but I believe that it will prevent further outbursts if I give them the news right away.” Raising his voice, Silandor addressed the amphitheater.

“We will be ready to send an exploratory team into the Ship of the Ancients tomorrow.”

The room fell silent but for the stand-by hum of the Visi-Sphere. No rustling of fabric as people shifted in their seats. No coughing or clearing of throats. Nobody even seemed to be breathing! Looking immensely satisfied at the shock he had inspired, Silandor leant down and spoke quietly into Valmik’s tympanic membrane. “Now: if you would like to hear of the events that led us this momentous juncture - I believe that my Specialist has a presentation that may be of interest to you all.”

Nodding numbly, Archivist First Valmik stumbled back to his seat. After a moment, he cleared his throat and addressed Palasar directly, “Ah, yes… Ah… Specialist. Yes, please, if you would be so kind - do continue.”


	4. Chapter 4

Zoe was still very far from convinced by the Doctor’s ridiculous proposal: his suggestion that the three of them - and the Tardis - had somehow been reduced in size!

No matter how open-minded she tried to be, Zoe just could not bring herself to accept this conclusion. Judging by the proportions of this pilots’ seat, whoever it was built for was of human - or at least, humanoid - physical construction.   From the height of the seat-rest, and its general distance from the control desk, Zoe calculated - without even being aware that she was doing so - the occupant’s probable size. Taking Jamie as ‘the average man’, they should be about four or five times larger than him. This did not seem too unreasonable or, at least, not beyond the realms of possibility.

Still, she already had a great deal of respect for the Doctor. Indeed, Zoe had almost instinctively trusted this odd little man since first meeting him on The Wheel. (The way he had dealt with the Cybermen had shown that he was not the clown that he appeared to be at first glance!) Deciding to nudge him in the direction of more practical considerations, Zoe asked, “Well, if we are going to be here for a while, Doctor, shouldn’t we try to learn more about this place? For example, have you noticed how easily we are breathing?”

“You are correct, of course, Zoe.’ The Doctor replied, stirred from his own continuing examination of their surroundings. ‘The smoke from the Tardis seems to have dissipated remarkably quickly, which would indicate a working ventilation system. The lighting appears to be getting brighter… although it’s hard to tell just where it is coming from… I do think that further exploration is called for, yes, indubitably”

“I was actually referring to the fact that we can breathe at all, Doctor!’ Zoe exclaimed, slightly huffily, ‘I mean, this is self-evidently an alien environment - is it just luck that they breathe the same atmosphere as we do?”

“Oh! I see what you mean, Zoe.’ The Doctor replied, nodding his understanding. ‘Well, under normal conditions, I do try to check the scanner before exiting the ship. That wasn’t possible on this occasion, obviously… I just had to trust in the Tardis. The ship usually looks out for me - indeed for all of us - to the best of her abilities, after all.’ He glanced back once more at the dilapidated looking blue box, almost like an anxious relative stuck in a hospital waiting room: both hoping for - and simultaneously dreading - news from the operating theatre. ‘And let’s face it, Zoe, it’s not as if we had much choice… I don’t think we could have survived in there for much longer.”

Jamie, a little perplexed by this turn of discussion, felt compelled to come to his friend’s defense. “Aye, Zoe. You have to admit that the air is much fresher out here. I don’t think the Tardis has ever landed me anywhere that I couldnae breathe! Well, apart from that time we landed on the Moon… But we had special suits to wear then… Can ye creid it? Walking on the Moon!’ Jamie seemed to get caught up in his recollections, and continued enthusiastically. ‘That was when I first met the Cybermen! Although for a lot of the time I thought I was being haunted by The Phantom Piper…’ He slowly trailed off, as he realized that Zoe was staring at him as if he’d forgotten to put his kilt on. ‘Aye, well - it’s a long story, Zoe.”

“And one that can wait for another time, I’m sure, Jamie!’ The Doctor interjected, much to Jamie’s relief. ‘Right now, we have some more immediate puzzles to solve! Do you have any suggestions as to how we might go about that, Zoe?”

Delighted (and a little proud) to be asked for advice by the Doctor, Zoe’s face lit with a brilliant smile as she indicated up at the pilots’ seat/control desk combination. “Of course I do, Doctor! I think that one of us needs to get up there! If there is any useful information to be discovered, surely that control desk is the best place to look for it - don’t you think?”

Recognizing a task that was well suited to his own skills, Jamie jumped in before the Doctor could reply. “Och, weel, now you’re talking! I was climbing bigger obstacles than that when I was no more than a bairn - I can be up there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail!” He grinned happily at the Doctor and waited for his approval. To his surprise, the Doctor was not looking particularly enthusiastic.

In fact, he was regarding Jamie with a slightly worried expression, whilst stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Yes… Indeed… I have absolutely no doubt that you could. But… and please don’t take offence when I say this, Jamie… but would you be able to understand the controls once you reached them?”

Zoe stifled a giggle at Jamie’s crestfallen expression, as visions of displaying his manly prowess slowly faded from his eyes. ”Ah, I see what you mean…’ he admitted, nodding to himself slowly, “I’m not saying that I couldnae do it mind - but it would probably be better if I just gave you a bunk up. Aye.”

The expression of alarm that crossed the Doctor’s face at this... nearly defeated Zoe’s desperate attempts at maintaining her composure, but his reply so surprised her that she forgot to laugh. “Me! Oh come now, Jamie, do be serious! Naturally it must be Zoe that goes up to examine the controls.” He gifted the startled girl with a smile that was no doubt intended to be ingratiating.

“Why me?” Zoe squeaked.

Affecting a hurt expression at being ‘so misunderstood’, the Doctor reached once more for his handkerchief. “Well, with your expertise in parapsychology and advanced mathematics - not to mention your familiarity with hi-tech scientific systems - you are undoubtedly much better qualified for the task than Jamie.’ He then glanced quickly at Zoe, as if in sudden realization, a startled expression of innocent surprise on his face. ‘Oh! You weren’t thinking that I… Oh no… No, my dear - you can’t hardly expect me to go gallivanting about like that!’ He dabbed his hanky tenderly on his forehead with exaggerated care. ‘Not in my condition…”

Zoe stood with her hands fisted on her hips. Although her mouth hung open, she was actually stunned speechless by this display of blatant manipulation.   However, when she saw the way that the Doctor was surreptitiously peeking out at her from under cover of his handkerchief - and the huge grin that was threatening to crack Jamie’s face in half - she couldn’t maintain her indignation. Shaking her head ruefully, Zoe threw her arms up in resignation; totally unable to resist joining in as Jamie gave way to laughter.

All trace of infirmity forgotten, the Doctor beamed at his friends, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. “Splendid! Splendid! Well, now that’s all settled - let’s get on, shall we?”

 

The atmosphere in the amphitheater/auditorium was alive with speculation and anticipation; practically everyone present was engaged in animated - yet thankfully hushed - conversation with their compatriots. The Archivist First tuned out the comforting murmur, letting it blend into the buzzing inside his own head: the disparate thoughts that clamored and vied for his attention. Out of the corner of his eye Valmik noticed Nandamar lean towards him, perhaps intending to address him. Valmik shook his head sharply, and his Second wisely took the hint.

Now that the presentation had finished, and Silandor had ushered his crewmen from the room - presumably to return to his precious Command Hub - the Visi-Sphere was blank. Valmik had requested this. He did not need any distracting reminders. What they had just been shown (and told) was indelibly etched into his memory. He now chose to study those etchings, careful to maintain rigid control over his facial colourations. As the young female had resumed speaking, a much shaken Valmik had decided to simply listen - as if to a story told by an Imagineer. In truth, he acknowledged, he really had no alternative; he could have no influence over these events now. So he had just watched passively as the small survey shuttle appeared in the Visi-Sphere.

The shuttle - no more than an egg-shaped pod really - had a crew of two, they were told. This was considered sufficient for what was intended to be a brief fly-by. The pilot would orbit the Ship of the Ancients, while her co-pilot carried out his tests and observations. Everything proceeded smoothly, until they reached a point about halfway between the two larger ships - then all signals from the shuttle were lost. Everything! But the hugely magnified image on the command hub’s main view-screen clearly showed the little vessel continuing serenely towards its destination.

From this point, the playback on the Visi-Sphere was manually accelerated by the Tec-Op. Apparently this was to keep the image in synch with the Specialists narrative. Valmik kept quiet, considering this to be sensible compromise. He certainly didn’t want to sit through a ‘real-time’ recounting of this ill-considered mission. When the shuttle, now a mere speck of light against the vast bulk of its target, appeared to be slowing down; it was assumed that Pilot Second Tomovol was simply showing due caution. However, concerns were raised when it became apparent that the closer the tiny speck grew to the Ship - the slower it was travelling!

When it finally went into its pre-planned ‘downward’ spiraling orbit, the shuttle was moving at a crawl in comparison to its normal cruising speed. (Now would have been a good time to involve this assemblage of experts! Valmik had thought. He already had a suspicion as to what was happening here: glancing round he had also seen members of the Theoretical Possibilities Enclave engaged in whispered discussions.)

The man operating the Visi-Sphere slowed his playback to real-time at this juncture. The image, no longer at variance to the time the Specialist was taking to deliver the information, slowed sharply. Everyone blinked at the abrupt transition. The tiny star appeared to come to a halt… But gradually - as his vision adjusted - Valmik could see that it was still moving. Just very slowly. He began to suspect that he and the others had been excluded - deceived - for much longer than Silandor had thus far admitted. He would just have to wait and see…

“You will no doubt be pleased to hear,’ the Specialist had then said, ‘that our crewmates returned to the Indigo Flame without encountering any difficulties - of which they were aware. They were both extremely surprised to find out that their mission of five Tendecad’s duration actually took a little over two days!”

When communications from the war mantis had been lost; Pilot Second Tomovol and her co-pilot, Eskabrade, had put it down to the increasing proximity of the Ship of the Ancients. Unable to detect any other more major problems, Tomovol had decided to continue the mission. According to her report, the approach and subsequent orbits went off without a hitch. Co-pilot (and Mission Specialist,) Eskabrade was able to execute his examinations and recordings as planned. They had even taken the initiative to launch and plant a magnetic probe on the hull of the giant Ship, before making the return flight.

Clade Commander Silandor had immediately ordered engineering crews to examine the shuttle down to its component parts - if that’s what it took - to see if any damage had occurred. The protesting pilots were subjected to a similar - and no less thorough - examination in the Medi-Bay. The results of the various scans and sensor readings had been studied carefully, but proved disappointing. Although the ship registered clearly in proximity, no readings were possible through its hull; any energy pulses were either absorbed, or simply ‘bounced’ off - this too was difficult to determine.

(That would explain why the visual records the crew had obtained showed such a pristine surface to the Ship’s hull, Valmik had concluded. He would have expected a lot more ‘wear and tear’ to be in evidence - surely some… Some at least, on a vessel as ancient as this was believed to be. Curiouser and curiouser…)

This was, in fact, the reason that the pilot took the decision to launch a probe directly at the hull - to see if tactile contact could be made. (The Archivist was sure that he was not the only person present who would have balked at this, had he been given any say in the matter!) As it turned out, the probe deployed its magnetic grapples successfully - even now it maintained its vigil - although no more useful telemetry had been received. At the very least, Valmik mused ironically, this proved that the Ship was not just some bizarre space mirage.

Once the shuttle and her crew were fully examined and pronounced unharmed; (Valmik noted that no mention was made of how long this had taken), Silandor decided that it was safe to approach to the mid-point, where sensor contact had originally been lost with the shuttle. This unilateral decision was taken in order to deploy the ‘Contact Craft’, and the following few decads of the briefing were both startling and fascinating - as were the visuals displayed in the Visi-Sphere.

Of course, everyone was aware of the contact craft, which had been snuggled against the Indigo Flame’s belly the entire flight: a parasite hitching a lift. It had been designed and constructed specifically for this mission of hope, and was essentially a mobile airlock. As no-one had known what condition the Ship of the Ancients would be in if - when - they found it, she was also a multi-purpose invasion tool. Valmik’s first glimpse of the craft, magna-clamped to the hull of the huge Ship, had only re-enforced his impression of the ugly thing as some kind of blood sucker.

Inside this innocuous looking growth, gripping limpet-like to the alien hull, the business of effecting an entry was reportedly taking place. Since energy tools - even weapons - had no visible affect, primitive physical assault had been resorted to. The engineers and mech-tecs of the crew were actually drilling into the Ship’s hull! Valmik really wasn’t sure how he felt about that particular revelation. (Sacrilege? Unfortunate necessity? Or something more disturbing - something that they were still not being told?)

They were shown visuals from inside the contact craft - shuttled back to the Flame - documenting Tecs in vac-suits entering the sealed off lower deck through an airlock. This was promptly dogged down behind them before anything of note could be observed - so very irritating!  At this point Nandamar had risked an interruption of his own - in the politest manner possible. “If I may request clarification, Specialist? Why are those crewmen wearing vac-suits? Is it just a precaution, or have you made more progress than is evident from what you have told us so far?”

“You anticipate me, Archivist Second,’ replied the Specialist, accepting his questions with good grace, ‘I was about to explain that - as we had no knowledge of the strength or thickness of the Ship’s hull at the time - suits were worn from the outset. It seemed the only safe way to proceed. However…’At this point she broke off and looked uncertainly to her Commander. At his gesture of permission, she continued. ‘The deployment of crew that you have just witnessed is of particular significance. Before those images were shuttled back to us here, they appended a report. They had achieved partial breakthrough.”

The Specialist (Plamasar? Paralam?) had paused and visibly braced herself at this point. To Valmik it looked as if she was expecting them all to start climbing the walls, skittering across the ceiling, and generally behaving like hatchlings fresh from the egg. If so, she was to be disappointed! Everyone remained silent, stunned by the news - and the fact that they were only now hearing it! Perhaps thrown off guard by this total lack of pandemonium, she coughed at the back of her throat, then continued. ‘And I must emphasize that when I say partial - I mean that this particular team managed to create some small openings only. Just large enough for probes and sensors to be fed through - we will shortly be able to make those readings available to you all.

Thank you all for your kind attention. That is the end of my prepared information feed, but I know that Clade Commander Silandor would like to add a few words. Commander?”

Exchanging places with the girl, Silandor had then calmly delivered the biggest shock of all. “I realize that this is all quite a lot to take in, but please bear with me a little longer. What Specialist Palasar did not mention, on my instruction, is the fact that we are currently physically docked with the Ship of the Ancients. I issued that order on receiving the report just mentioned. Being in physical contact has enabled us to maintain a real-time link and, as I stated earlier, we plan to send in the first exploratory team tomorrow. This room is now your own base of operations. The technical aspects are still being worked on, but presently you will have full access to everything that we know - as we know it.”

“Commander Silandor’, Valmik had been surprised to hear his own voice so calm, so bereft of anger, ‘just how long have we been this, ah… close to the Ship of the Ancients?’ Then he added, ‘By our terms of reference, I mean.”

Silandor had nodded, as if expecting the question. “The Indigo Flame has actually been docked with the Ship - via the contact craft - for just over a day and a half. However, we have been within the Ship’s… sphere of influence, I suppose you might call it, for over six.” (A day and a half! The Archivist had thought numbly, focusing on this startling slice of information. No wonder the Commander was so insistent on ejecting us from the Hub yesterday!)

An unfamiliar voice then drew his attention. Somewhat weakly, Dotalane, of the Theoretical Possibilities enclave, had enquired. “And just how much time has passed outside this ‘sphere of influence’, Clade Commander?”

The man actually had the audacity to smirk, to try to make light of the situation! “I’m really not sure - I was rather hoping that the Mathematician’s enclave would be able to work on that! No further questions for now, thank you. You all have much to discuss, I’m sure, so we shall leave you to it.”

Bringing himself back to the here and now, Archivist First Valmik studied his comrades thoughtfully. Like himself, they didn’t appear to be angry, but in their cases any anger had been subsumed by intellectual enthusiasm. For his part, Valmik fully expected his rage and fury to manifest itself with a vengeance - once he had recovered from his shock at the sheer magnitude of Silandor’s deception.   He also found himself unable to completely believe the Commander’s brutally sparse - and distinctly unilluminating - explanations.

What if there was even more that the man was not telling them?

Rising to his feet, he demanded everyone’s attention, so that all eyes in the room were following him as he strode onto the central stage.


	5. Chapter 5

Much to Zoe’s relief, scaling the massive chair had proven much easier than she had expected.

The support plinth, that held the seat-rest itself, had regular ridges that made for perfect hand-holds. This had simplified matters enormously! Under the Doctor’s ‘supervision’, Zoe had leant against the plinth and held onto the first ridge. Squatting down behind her, Jamie had then gripped her ankles and - after confirming that she was ready - effortlessly stood upright. Zoe had begun scrabbling for hand-holds as the brawny Scot continued to propel her rapidly upwards, until she had suddenly found herself standing on his broad shoulders.

“Tis a good thing ye’ weigh nae more than a plucked Grouse, Zoe!” Jamie had remarked cheerfully at this point, confusing her momentarily. (Zoe had grown up believing that a grouse was a person that complained a lot. She had no idea how one went about ‘plucking’ one!) As Jamie maintained a steadying hold on her calves, Zoe had studied the remainder of her ascent. It really didn’t look that far, but…

“Can you get me up any higher, Jamie?’ She had called down to him, ‘I just need to go a little further before I can get a good grip.” The Doctor had hovered nervously, advising caution, as Zoe had followed Jamie’s instructions. As she had lifted first one foot, then the other, Jamie had placed a hand under each in turn. When she felt comfortably balanced, he had then straightened his arms up overhead, and Zoe had ‘walked’ her hands up the ridged surface.  On finding herself at mid-torso level with the seat’s cushioning, Zoe had easily managed to swing a leg up and haul herself into place.

The Doctor had jumped up and down, clapping with enthusiasm. “Oh, well done, Zoe! Splendid job, Jamie! You see what can be achieved with a little teamwork? Now then, Zoe, why don’t you see what you can find up there, and shout down what you see?”

Zoe, who was currently having a little difficulty standing up on the springy surface, considered this last suggestion totally unnecessary; why else had she climbed up here? She didn’t bother to reply. Instead, she crawled on hands and knees to one of the arms of the chair, using it to help her stand. Spotting a handy looking protrusion on its top, Zoe got a good grip on it and pulled, intending to use it to pull herself up. Instead, she let out a yelp of surprise as it bent towards her, causing her to fall down once more as the entire seat moved beneath her.

This was even more surprising for the Doctor and Jamie, who now found the huge wall of the seat plinth advancing towards them. “Oh my Goodness!” exclaimed the Doctor, as he and Jamie grabbed onto each other, backing hurriedly away. They looked at each other in horror, then back at the approaching structure… Then breathed out huge sighs of relief when it just as abruptly ceased moving.

Forgetting the Doctor immediately - only remembering Zoe’s cry of alarm - Jamie ran back, shouting in panic. “Zoe! Can ye’ hear me, lass? Are you alright up there?” He had just started to scramble up the plinth himself, when Zoe’s head poked over the edge of the seat. She looked slightly disheveled, and more than a little embarrassed.

“It’s alright, Jamie, I’m perfectly safe! I think I must have pulled a switch that adjusts the position of the seat.” She looked past him to see the Doctor coming back to join them, looking somewhat chagrined himself.

“Ah, yes, I really should have thought of that myself, Zoe. We were in no danger, Jamie, the pilot would hardly want to crush himself, would he now?’ Then he gazed up at Zoe. ‘Controls in the armrests, eh? Well, it’s a good job that you adjusted it forwards, my dear. You could have taken a nasty tumble otherwise!’ Suddenly looking concerned at that possibility, he continued in a gentler tone. ‘Are you sure you feel up to carrying on, Zoe?”

Zoe laughed and rolled her eyes. “Oh do stop worrying, both of you! I’m perfectly alright - I was just taken by surprise, that’s all! Now, why don’t you find something useful to do while I look around up here? I’ll shout if I find anything interesting - and I promise to be more careful this time!” Still grinning and shaking her head, Zoe disappeared from view once more.

 

Still feeling slightly concerned for his newest friend’s safety, Jamie distracted himself by addressing another niggling worry. “You said that the pilot wouldnae want to crush himself, did ye’ no’, Doctor?”

“Well, yes, of course, Jamie!’ replied the Doctor, looking rather surprised, ‘I should have thought the statement self-explanatory!”

Jamie gestured for the Doctor to follow him, then led the way out from under the control desk, wanting to get out in the open again. “Aye, Doctor, but we’ve no’ seen hide nor hair of a pilot, or anyone else for that matter. Where is the crew?”

“You know, Jamie, I have been mulling over that very question myself! I think we can safely conclude that this is a spaceship after all, and this is the control room.’ Jamie just looked at the Doctor and waited for him to say more. ‘Yes, well… That being the case, it follows that there is more to this vessel than just this one room. However, I have been unable to determine any means of egress so that we may explore further…’ He noticed Jamie’s blank look and hurriedly added, ‘there are no doors, Jamie!

‘So, and this is all just speculation, you understand… but I can think of several possible explanations for the absence of a crew.’ The Doctor began to list his ideas, counting them off on his fingers as he did so.

‘One. This ship has been abandoned recently - for reasons unknown. I say recently, and I also discount the possibility that she is a derelict, simply because we have life-support - air, heating, lighting etcetera.

‘Two. This is a sleeper ship… Er, that’s a spaceship where all the crew travel in suspended animation, Jamie. However, even on such a vessel, there is usually some form of procedure whereby the crew take it in turns to supervise the ship. Or there would be some form of automated system, at the very least.

‘Three. It is possible that there are just such systems and alarms, be we are so small - comparatively speaking - that, well… we just haven’t set them off. Perhaps the ship is flying on automatic pilot, and the crew are all on a lunch break!

‘Four…’ The Doctor paused, studying his right-hand forefinger as it rested atop the little finger of his left hand, and frowned. ‘Well, actually, I can’t really think of a fourth reason. Not with the information we currently have available.”

 

Totally oblivious to this conversation, Zoe was finding herself enjoying the experience of examining the controls - now that she had mastered the knack of staying upright!

First, she studied the new configuration that she had accidentally triggered. If she had been the correct size for this chair, Zoe realized, she would now be snugly contained within the curved control panel, with easy access to a vast array of systems. As it was, she found it helpful to lean against, while she moved towards the armrest that had caused her so much embarrassment earlier! Zoe had never done very much climbing when on the Wheel, so clambering up onto the armrest itself was a novel, yet interesting, experience.

From here she could see any number of buttons, sliders, and switches built into it. She also had a better view of the control desk, sweeping around the chair. It was also covered in a sophisticated - but recognisable - array of technology, this time including lots of dials and displays. The latter were (mostly) currently blank, but as she scanned the labelled controls within her range of vision, a small frown slowly creased Zoe’s forehead.

Why would giant aliens - no matter how humanoid their appearance - speak and write in Earth Standard? She hadn’t even realized it at first, but she could read everything quite clearly. The Doctor couldn’t possibly have been correct, could he? Had they all shrunk somehow? No… surely not!

However, as she stepped onto the control desk itself, Zoe realized that she now had some information that was worth passing on. “Doctor!” she called out, hoping that he hadn’t taken her at her word and wandered off.

Moments later she heard Jamie shout, “What is it, Zoe? Are you alright?” Zoe sighed as she jumped back to the seat - what was it about that boy? Didn’t he think she could look after herself for five minutes? She resumed her position lying on the cushioned surface, so that she could lean over the edge and talk to him. “I’m fine, Jamie,’ she called down, ‘I just need to talk to the… Ah, there you are, Doctor! I’ve noticed something very strange. Whoever the aliens are that built this ship, they appear to communicate in Earth Standard - how can that be?”

The Doctor looked up at her with a puzzled frown, then slapped himself on the wrist. “Naughty Doctor!’ he scolded, then looked back up at Zoe with an apologetic smile. “I’m terribly sorry, Zoe, I should have found the time to explain this earlier. It is very unlikely that these people communicate in English - it’s just one more of the advantages of travelling by Tardis - the clever old thing translates everything for us!”

“Well, I wish you had told me that earlier!’ Zoe replied, more relieved than annoyed. ‘I’ve been worrying myself silly up here! Anyway, what I wanted to tell you is this. I think that this is a Master Control Board, all the other units on this bridge can be run from here - it looks as if they are all slaved in.”

“Now that is interesting,’ replied the Doctor, raising his eyebrow and glancing towards Jamie, ‘that could go some way towards explaining the apparent absence of a crew on board. Tell me, Zoe, can you find any indication of a means of leaving this room up there? We can’t seem to see anything down here.”

“I’ll have to get back on the control panel to look, Doctor. I’ll be back in a moment.” She replied, then put her words into action. This was actually easier said than done, as the surface of the MCB sloped upwards quite steeply. Still, Zoe was confident that - once she had clambered back up onto it - she would manage just fine. (She was getting just a little bit fed up of being treated like a porcelain doll!) Using various switches and levers for support, Zoe edged higher up the board, all the while studying any labels or active displays carefully.

Eventually she found an abbreviated nine-stud keypad, with one key marked ‘Main Vehicle Access’. She leaned across and applied all her weight to the large button indicated. Unfortunately this meant that she had to let go of the lever that she had been holding onto for safety. Even as she heard what sounded like triumphant cries from below, Zoe was sliding down the steep surface! Refusing to cry out, she managed to halt her descent quite quickly - simply by wedging her feet against the edge of a display screen a little further down.

Zoe was feeling very pleased with herself, until she suddenly realized that she couldn’t move!

Glancing down, she could see that she had ended up sitting on square of dark glass built into the surface of the MCB. There was a bright blue bar of light just underneath the glass, rapidly traversing it. Before she could even think about being concerned, however, it was all over. The bar of light winked out, and Zoe could move again.

She decided to get down before she inadvertently set anything else off!

 

Elsewhere.

In a gloomy corridor, of a kind with the bridge of the ship where the time-travelers have arrived…  

Something changes.

Darkness begins to lift, gradually evolving into a dull light where-in shadows lurk. Any witness would be immediately struck by the massive, vault-like doors that are dimly visible at the end of this corridor, then a movement would draw their attention to one side. On this side of the corridor, a rectangular hatch cover slides down with a mechanical hum. A brilliant silvery light erupts forth into the silence. Any witness not blinded by this sudden luminosity, would see something most curious.

Most curious indeed.

Behind the hatch there lies a mirror-like wall, yet this mirror does not reflect anything. It looks more like a tank of liquid mercury held immobile by an invisible screen, but there is no screen, invisible or not.

Slowly, as if an unseen plug has been pulled from this imaginary tank, the level of luminous ‘liquid’ begins to fall.

 

Getting back down proved even easier, due in no small part to Zoe’s increasing confidence in her own abilities.

Calling out for Jamie, she began lowering herself down the plinth, keeping a firm grip on the seat’s fabric as she felt for foot-holds. The young Highlander arrived like an obedient puppy - albeit a big burly puppy, with the strength to chatter away enthusiastically while lowering her the rest of the way to the deck. “I knew you were a canny lass, Zoe! We have a way oot of here now, come and see!”

Zoe wasn’t sure what ‘canny’ meant, but chose to take it as a complement as Jamie took her hand: practically dragging her around the plinth, and over to the Doctor. He was standing by a large opening in the floor some way behind the pilot’s seat, which led to the rear bulkhead, and continued some considerable way up it. The Doctor was peering down the ramped passageway now revealed. As his young companions approached he turned to congratulate Zoe.

“Oh, well done, Zoe! As you can see, whatever you did to the controls was successful!’ He stepped aside, as if Zoe may somehow have missed the huge opening, gesturing towards it grandly. ‘It was quite a sight to see, I can tell you! The material of the floor and rear wall just seemed to crack down the middle, sliding into hidden recesses either side - and ‘Voila’! Gave Jamie quite a turn!”

“Only because I was standing on top of it when it started to open, Doctor!’ Jamie defended himself, ‘and I noticed you jumping away from it just as fast as I did!”

“Just be thankful that it stopped before reaching the Tardis!” The Doctor retorted.

Ignoring this byplay, Zoe looked down the ramp. It was very dark. The low illumination from the bridge did not provide enough light to reach the far end, so she was unable to judge the distance. “It’s a very large exit, Doctor.’ She commented nervously, ‘and not very well lit!”

“Of course it’s large, Zoe - at least, to us it is! I should imagine that the fellow that chair was made for would find it rather, er… snug, though. Rather odd, actually… but no matter! Now - do you see that circular indentation in the wall over there?” The Doctor indicated the dinner-plate sized depression that he had noticed. Both Zoe and Jamie nodded. It was about waist height, and emitted a faint glow. “Now remember, this vessel appears to be in some kind of stand-by mode, so it would only need lighting where occupants were detected.”

The Doctor paused to gesture Jamie nearer, then placed a hand on his shoulder. “Now then, Jamie. I want you to start walking down this ramp, making sure that you pass that indentation - I’m sure it’s quite safe.” Zoe started to nod in understanding as Jamie, trusting the Doctor without question, began to stride confidently down the sloping passageway.

“It’s some kind of sensor, isn’t it, Doctor?’ Zoe asked - just before that section of the corridor lit up, triggered by the Scotsman’s presence. ‘But why is it so high up the wall? They’re usually about ankle height!”

“Precisely, Zoe!’ confirmed the Doctor - rather smugly, Zoe thought. ‘Wait for us, Jamie!’ he called out, when he noticed that the fearless Highlander was still stomping along, gazing up and around himself in amazement. ‘Let’s catch up with him before he gets too far, shall we?” the Doctor asked, offering Zoe his arm in an old-fashioned gesture of gallantry.

Jamie, having stopped at the Doctor’s shout, was waiting for them quite some way along. “Don’t worry, Zoe,’ he offered on noticing Zoe’s frown as they caught up with him. ‘The Doctor reckons that this is a ‘sleepy ship’, which sounds safe enough, eh? What harm could there be in having a little look round?


	6. Chapter 6

Mech-Tec Enteberol and Tec-Op Choltz exchanged looks of disbelieving horror, as they were informed that they had been chosen to accompany the first team into the Ship of the Ancients. This was not what they had been hatched for! True, as Sub-Commander Talamane pointed out, the two of them did have more ‘hands-on’ experience of the Ship than any of the other Tec crewmembers - but that had been on the outside of the cursed derelict! Nice and safe, inside the magna-clamped lower deck of their own works vessel, it had been easy to forget exactly what they were drilling into. Just another day of hard labor.

And it had been hard work - not to mention ever-so-slightly terrifying - before the work teams had managed to adjust to their actual location. Enteberol and Choltz had been among the first to go down, into the workspace created by the contact craft’s magna-clamps. It had actually been Choltz’ bright idea to vent the atmosphere from that deck, since they had to wear vac-suits anyway. She had been under the impression that this would make lugging some of the heavier drilling equipment about somewhat easier. Unfortunately, this meant that everyone had to magnetize their suit-boots, making just walking a task. Not to mention the fact that, although the tools now seemed to weigh nothing, the operators still had to strain against their inertia.

Choltz was deeply unpopular for several decads after that!

Admittedly, Enteberol’s own task hadn’t been too adversely affected, as he was using the precision drilling tools. He and Choltz had been tasked with creating openings in the Ship’s hull, in order to feed through various sensor devices, but this did entail its own problems - naturally!

Without any weight behind the drill (although this would have been the case even in full grav) Enteberol had to use brute strength to make any progress. Even taking turns with Choltz, who was in charge of vacuuming the metal shavings away from the drill-head, it was slow and tiresome work. Still, at least they weren’t with the heavy riggers, whose job it was to create an actual entrance into the derelict. Disregarding the discomfort and the tension, their own task was as easy as catching small furry mammals by comparison. Naturally, they made faster progress with their smaller targets, and it was then almost a matter of routine to feed through each cable and seal it into place. Choltz then simply plugged the other end into the appropriate socket, establishing a hard-wired link back to the Flame.

That was all that Enteberol had expected to be doing on this particular mission. Nobody had ever mentioned that he might personally be chosen to go inside the derelict. Until now. Evidently Choltz was harboring similar doubts and concerns, because she nervously enquired, “Um… your pardon, Sub-Commander. I’m not entirely sure how drilling holes into the derelicts hull… Um… Qualifies us for the exploratory team. Wouldn’t one of the Ghost Patrol’s be more suited to the task, Sir?”

Talamane regarded Choltz carefully, perhaps considering how to phrase her response, then blinked confirmation. “Don’t worry, Tec-Op Choltz, there will indeed be a sizable force of commandoes in the party, but we don’t want this to appear a purely military operation. There are… political considerations, but you need not concern yourself overmuch about that. Who knows when your skills may be required inside that craft? We certainly don’t want the troops to resort to blowing holes in the vessel, do we?”

“As you say, Sub-Commander.” Choltz replied, clearly unsatisfied with the answer, but deferring to authority.

Enteberol, who had reason to know a little more about the derelict by now, ventured a question of his own. “Sub-Commander, Sir… if I may ask?’ She blinked permission. ‘Will any of the enclave representatives be on the exploratory team? Or is there some element of risk involved here, which prevents them from accompanying us… Sir?”

Smiling, obviously intending to reassure by not revealing her teeth, (Enteberol still found the woman intimidating, regardless!) the Sub-Commander replied. “We are dealing with the unknown here, Technician. Of course there is the possibility of danger. That is why the troops will be there! The enclave’s will be with you in spirit, though. Some crew will be issued with Visi-com units, so that your progress may be monitored from the Flame.”

“Of course, Sir, but… forgive my foolishness - I have not been trained for this kind of operation - is there any expectation that we will, um… meet resistance?” Enteberol regretted the question as soon as he had asked it.

“Resistance!’ Talamane slapped her thigh as she barked an involuntary laugh. ‘Ha! Crewman, do not let rumors and legends lead you into flights of fancy! That derelict has been out here for hundreds, perhaps thousands of generations! No, this is more an archeological expedition than anything else - still your jitters, man!”

He couldn’t prevent the next question blurting out, before thinking - again! “Then why does it still have a breathable atmosphere, Sub-Commander?”

Her eyes narrowed briefly, then, with a snort of belated realisation, she replied. “Of course - you’ve seen the feeds, haven’t you? In fact, Mech-Tec Enteberol, it was your own diligence and dedication that brought you to the Clade Commander’s notice. It is why the two of you were selected for this honour, over the other crewmembers who worked alongside you! Actually… given your interest, I would have expected more enthusiasm from you.”

Keenly aware of Choltz’ sudden glare - if she had the ability to shoot lasers from her eyes, he would now be crispy fried Tec - Enteberol felt his heart sink. Whilst he would admit to some - small - curiosity being behind his volunteering to check the link integrity personally; his main reasoning had been more practical. He hadn’t wanted himself and Choltz to be sent back to re-do their work, just because somebody else messed up further down the line. Perhaps misread the data and blamed it on them, for example. He hadn’t wanted to go anywhere near that ship again!

So, he had traced and verified the information flow through every connection and relay. He had overseen the systems integration in the Command Hub itself. He had even assisted Tec-Op Imanol in installing the necessary circuits and modifications, in that remarkable Visi-Sphere device that he was so proud of. This was where, as he observed the test runs on data compatibility, Enteberol had learned about the atmosphere inside the derelict.

He had been extremely satisfied with the perfect functioning of the link, and confident that nobody would be able to find reason to send him back to this so-called ‘Ship of the Ancients’. He had actually been looking forward to a couple of shifts well-earned R’n’R!

Instead, he and his work partner had been summoned to a personal briefing: by no less a personage than the Second Spear of the Indigo Flame herself!

Now, having been dismissed from Talamane’s office with orders to report directly to Mission Prep, Enteberol let the furious Choltz storm off ahead of him while he tried to figure out what had happened.

How did it all go so horribly wrong?

 

After he opened his eyes, Aleph Null instinctively located the nipple inside his suit helmet. Taking a deep draught of liquid nutrients, he slowly began to evaluate the situation. Exactly as he had been briefed to expect, Null felt no disorientation at all from his immersion in the isolation chamber - it truly was as if he had only just hooked himself up!

However, something was definitely wrong.

If the process had worked, he should have been revived only at Wars End, or in the unlikely event of an intrusion. However, outside his chamber there awaited no greeting party. More disturbingly, the corridor still appeared to be in stand-by lighting mode. Accessing the primary linkages, he reviewed the ship’s status. Null’s head-up display scrolled through the information rapidly. All atmospheric conditions were just as he had left them! The whole rationale for his entering isolation fully suited was that - in the event of his being woken before victory - the ship would be as cold as space itself; devoid of the atmosphere that should have dissipated over the centuries. There certainly shouldn’t be any lighting - however low.

He was beginning to get deeply worried. Had this whole glorious experiment been an abject failure? Had he really been brought out of temporal isolation so soon that a mere few hours had passed - rather than the anticipated millennia? Had the damned chamber even worked at all? Fighting back any trace of panic, Null called up the resurrection protocols. There was no discernable discrepancy; the biological pattern that had initiated revivification was well within predicted genetic drift variables - the DNA trace was actually a closer match than had been allowed for!

But there was nobody here.

Null deliberately relaxed himself, then began to methodically disconnect his links to the chamber one by one. He placed each carefully in the appropriate holding slot in the chamber’s ceiling, then keyed the overhead pad to release his hibernation couch. It slid out smoothly, until Null was able to raise himself into a seated position. It truly felt as if no time had passed at all. Swinging his legs off the couch, he stood effortlessly, simultaneously keying the chamber closure instructions into his wrist pad. He didn’t wait to see the couch slide back into the chamber, and only heard the hatch slide back up and seal itself once more.

His attention was now solely focused on the Vault of Memories, or at least, the massive and imposing doors that formed the end of this access-way. They appeared to be undamaged, untouched even. With a sigh of relief Null turned around to study the rest of the small corridor with more care, confirming to his satisfaction that nothing seemed to be amiss. Slowly, still not quite believing that everything could have gone so terribly wrong, he released the seal on his faceplate. He took a cautious sniff…

A little musty, a little thin, but perfectly breathable.

It looked like his only option was to make a thorough examination of the entire ship. He particularly wanted to check on the status of his five crewmates; whose survival-pod’s isolation protocols should have automatically engaged, when he activated the signal from his own chamber. To do that, he needed to get back to the flight deck. Resealing his faceplate as a precaution, Null stepped a little way down the corridor until he stood beneath a ceiling hatch. Punching the opening sequence into the keypad, set flush beside it, caused the hatch to slide away to one side - allowing Null to grip the lower hand-rung that descended to within his reach. He gave no thought to the physical effort required to haul himself up by his hands alone. His mind was already far too occupied with the task ahead.

Just what was going on here?

 

For once, Clade Commander Silandor was seated in the central throne that he so despised. This was purely so that he could engage the podium’s privacy field: enabling him to discuss matters that he may not wish his entire hub crew to be party to just yet, but still remain visible and accessible to them. Before him stood Specialist Third Palasar, considerably more self-assured than when he had first singled her out. “The delay in transmission I requested?” He enquired, not considering it necessary to elaborate further.

“Fully implemented, Commander. We now have a 0.5 decad window to prevent the enclaves from receiving any information that you may deem… unsettling to them.’ She hesitated briefly, then added. ‘The assistance of Mech-Tec Enteberol was most helpful, although he did express some concerns…”

“Such as?”

“Well, he seemed to be under the impression that any delays in the feed might reflect badly on himself.’ Palasar hurried to add, ‘However, once I told him that the instructions came directly from yourself, Sir, he did an admirable job.”

“Indeed, so it would appear.’ Silandor nodded thoughtfully, ‘I have taken steps to see that his abilities are recognized. It would be unfortunate if any word of these… precautions were to reach any of our guests, particularly the Archivist First. That man would simply refuse to accept that these measures are intended for his own benefit - he prefers to read subterfuge and conspiracy into my every action. I tell you, Palasar, all civilians are cursed with over-active imaginations.”

Palasar was unsure how to respond to this - or even if a response was required - so she simply agreed with her Commander. “Yes, Sir. Do you require anything further, Sir?” She did not expect his reply.

“A friendly face.” The Commander mused.

Palasar blinked several times, more rapidly than was seemly, but her confusion momentarily overcame her discipline. Taking control of her tongue, which had been tasting the air without her conscious volition, she managed. “I’m not quite sure I follow, Commander.” She was deeply aware that no-one else could hear this conversation.

Silandor suddenly seemed to realize the possible implications of his unguarded statement. He regarded the young woman very seriously, with perhaps just a trace of regret. “I do apologize, Specialist, I was thinking aloud. I assure you that I intended no impropriety. Allow me to clarify.’ Leaning back into his command throne, he motioned around the Hub, taking in the busy crew with a casual sweep of his arm. ‘You and I, Specialist, we look around here and we see our home. When I review my troops, I see efficient cadres of men and women that I have known for years. I see my brothers and sisters.’

He paused, scratching pensively at his cheek with an unsheathed claw. ‘I fear that, when our guests look around at all this, they see frightening people that they distrust and dislike. I want them to see a friendly face on the exploratory team. Although the Ghost First will be in charge of team security, I want to put you in overall command of this preliminary investigation. You are more familiar with the derelict’s telemetry than anyone else aboard, and I believe that your presence may reassure the civilian enclave’s as to our good intentions. What say you, Specialist?”

Palasar didn’t believe for a moment that she was being given any choice in the matter, but her pulse quickened anyway. The opportunity walk in legend - if this truly was a Ship of the Ancients - was enough to override any fear or trepidation she may otherwise have felt, at being given such responsibility.  Palasar stood proudly to attention and barked. “My life in your hands, Commander!”

 

Jamie was quite enjoying the way each section of corridor lit up ahead of him every time he passed a sensor, and he was keen to see what was at the end. However, he did try not to get too far ahead of Zoe and the Doctor. They had not had the good fortune to be born and raised in the rugged Highlands of Scotland, so it was understandable that they might not feel quite as confident on this gentle slope as he did. He had lost interest in the corridor itself. Apart from its gargantuan size it was much like any other he had encountered - and travelling with the Doctor seemed to make encountering corridors inevitable!

“Oh do slow down, Jamie!’ came an indignant cry from Zoe, ‘this isn’t a race, you know!” When he stopped and looked back to his companions, Jamie couldn’t help grinning as he saw them gripping onto each other for balance. He had been about to stop and wait for his friends anyway, having seen something that they were too pre-occupied to notice yet. The slope had levelled off, and this straighter section was the end of the corridor.

As the Doctor arrived, puffing and panting, Jamie asked him, “Well, Doctor, d’ye have any ideas how we go about opening yon door then?”

Much relieved to be on level footing, both Zoe and the Doctor raised their eyes from their feet and gawped. Of course, they had all known that any doors would have to be on a scale with everything else they had seen - but to actually be confronted by such a portal was still a shock! The Doctor peered up at the door itself, which was fairly plain and uninteresting, then scrutinized the surrounding frame more carefully.

“I should think it will be fairly easy to open actually, Jamie! If you study the frame you will notice that any form of opening mechanism is conspicuous by its absence.’  He then gazed back up the corridor, absently tugging an earlobe. ‘Yes, look back there, both of you. You can see where the lights have been, er… ‘Switched off’ behind us, but we can still see the faint glow from the control room. I should imagine that the bridge is considered a secure area, and as such is usually kept locked. However, it would be most inconvenient if every door on the ship required a special key, don’t you think?”

“Of course!’ Zoe enthused, ‘the doors probably operate on the same principal as the lighting!’ She marched forward confidently to trigger the next sensor herself. As she had anticipated the massive door began to open. ‘You see!’ Zoe smiled triumphantly as she turned back to her friends, ‘it’s just a straight-forward automatic door!” Her self-satisfied grin slowly fell from her face, as she took in her friend’s expressions. Zoe turned back to the opening door and looked up…

And up…

And up.

”Eep!” she squeaked, in a tiny, tiny voice.


	7. Chapter 7

This morning, everyone had arrived at the circular conference room containing the Visi-Sphere remarkably early, and in good order.

Each enclave or faction was well represented, and intently focused. As the Archivist First, Valmik had no official authority over the other enclaves, but the other First’s tended to listen to his council favourably. So, when he had suggested yesterday evening that they should all meet discreetly, he found himself unsurprised at the rapid consensus. (Indeed, many of the Elders had been ready to propose just this themselves - they had clearly been just as dissatisfied with the proceedings as Valmik himself.)

After dismissing the junior members on the pretext of getting some rest - and it was a pretext, no-one expected to get much sleep that night - the Firsts had huddled together to air their views. Initially this was nothing more than a series of complaints about the Clade Commander’s high-handed and, in their view, unjustifiable actions; but Valmik had smoothly managed to steer the discussion towards more pertinent matters.

“Let us put aside our wounded pride for the moment, my honourable friend’s,’ he had powered over the complaints, ‘and instead consider our response to Silandor’s obviously unacceptable behavior. The Commander has deceived us all - he freely admits it! He apparently has no qualms about rationing the amount of information we are given: personally, I don’t trust the man in the slightest, and I suspect that he will continue to be less than generous with the truth. Well, my friends, we must play him at his own game! We must guard our privacy in this room from now on. I would not put it past the man to install surveillance devices… under the guise of expediting our communications.’

He had subtly indicated the two Tecs working away busily in the Visi-Sphere’s innards. ‘I advise that we all keep our own Enclaves business in our own Enclaves quarters for the present.”

Mathematician First Thariferon had provided him with the opportunity to expound on the proposal with his questions. “But surely, Valmik, you are not suggesting that we are to keep secrets from each other? How could that possibly be beneficial? How would we work?”

“Not at all, old friend, still your concerns! I simply think that we should repay Silandor in kind. The Archives will remain open to all enclaves, as they always have been. My Archivist’s will still be at your service at all times, and the mnemonic specialists will remain with each enclave as usual. I am simply advocating that we show Silandor exactly the same respect that he has shown us. We don’t need to discuss any theories in this room that will be useful to the Commander. No, I say that from now on, if Silandor wants our help or advice - he must ask for it!”

Unsurprisingly, this was met with rousing approval. None of the Firsts liked to think that their own particular enclaves were being dismissed, that their input was not required, or that they themselves were of no significance. That was Silandor’s greatest failing - he rubbed peoples scales the wrong way.

Archivist First Valmik counted on this, of course.

His thoughts returned to the present, as two of Silandor’s drones stalked in and hurriedly advanced towards the stage. There was something to be said for arriving early… He felt a smug pleasure at the mottled colourations these crewmen were unable to repress - on realizing that they were the last to arrive! The smaller of the two, (Valmik recognized him as the fellow who had operated the Visi-Sphere yesterday) immediately seated himself at the machine’s controls. The larger man, now rigidly in control of himself, began to address the gathering.

“I am Coms-Spec Thraxle. Tec-Op Imanol and I have been placed at your disposal for the duration of this first exploratory survey of the der - of the Ship of the Ancients. Clade Commander Silandor regrets that he will be too busy monitoring the mission to give you his personal attention, but I am authorized to act as his spokesman.” Thraxle cocked his head to one side, evidently receiving a communication through the device attached to his tympanic membrane. A moment later his throat vibrated and twitched, betraying the fact that he was sub-vocalizing a response. (The man must have cybernetic implants! Valmik realized, unable to suppress a shudder of revulsion.)

Thraxle looked around at the attentive faces surrounding him, apparently attempting to meet as many eyes as he could, then blinked in satisfaction. “Honoured Elders, enclave representatives, and fellow Oortelians…. We can begin!’

He instructed Imanol to activate the Visi-Sphere, then continued over the low hum as it warmed up. ‘As we are all gathered somewhat… Ah, somewhat sooner than anticipated, the Clade Commander thought that you may appreciate witnessing the preparations of our boarding party.”

As he stepped aside, the scene within the Visi-Sphere coalesced into a close-up of the excited face of Specialist Third Palasar.

 

Palasar was excited, she couldn’t deny it, but this was mitigated by the fact that she hadn’t expected to be ‘on-air’ quite yet! The original schedule would have allowed her to start her report from within the derelict. Apparently the civilians had been uncharacteristically prompt this morning!

She held up her helmet with its inbuilt visualizer, so that she could talk directly into it. When issuing this particular piece of equipment, Tec-Op Imanol had quietly suggested that Palasar may find it… Less intimidating… If she pretended that she was speaking to a friend, rather than unknown observers. It helped. She pictured him before her, and opened with the salutation that the Commander hoped might provide an impression of unity.

“Fellow Oortelians, welcome to this moment in history! I know that you would rather be here yourselves; but you are all too important to the Hegemony to risk on what is, after all, merely a preliminary survey. The Clade Commander gives you his word that you shall have your chance, and requests your forbearance. We few are just here to taste the air - and there is air on the Ship! Against all expectations, we will be able to breathe once aboard! Let me show you how we are progressing…”

Turning the helmet away, Palasar allowed herself a sigh of relief before placing it on her head.

 

The view on the Visi-Sphere broke up momentarily, then cleared to show what the Specialist was seeing. She continued to speak, providing a narrative (somewhat patronisingly) intended to explain what everyone was now seeing. First the view panned round to show the same deck of the contact craft that they had all seen yesterday. The only difference was that the airlock at its center was opening as they approached.

“We are on the mid-deck of the contact craft: behind and above me is another airlock leading to the upper deck, which is connected by yet another airlock to the Indigo Flame herself. But below us is the Ship of the Ancients!’

Now they could see the man that had opened the airlock, he was giving a thumbs up gesture and beckoning them down. There followed some rather uninteresting views of the airlock interior, and then everyone present took a sharp intake of breath, as the Specialist’s hand came into view… Tapping on a greenish metallic surface.

‘And here is the hull of the Ship! I am touching alien metal!

‘Over here you can see the cables we installed to establish sensor links with the Ship…’ The view panned towards said cables, looking more like insect proboscises puncturing flesh than anything else; then followed them up to show their connections to the Oortelian docking craft. ‘And over here is the airlock that we have sunk through into the Ship itself.”

Everyone in the auditorium leaned forward as the lock came into view. Again, it was uncomfortably reminiscent of an alien growth burrowing into the hulls skin. The impression was only re-enforced by the sealant surrounding it like an infection. The view swung upwards suddenly, as the man who had guided them down spoke to the Specialist. (Valmik grunted as he recognized the Mech-Tec who had worked on the Visi-Sphere the previous evening.) His voice carried clearly through the comms system.

“We are ready for you now, Specialist Palasar. This lock can accommodate two comfortably, so we can go through together. That’s just in case you find the transition… disorientating.”

“Could you explain that please, Mech-Tec Enteberol, and our current disposition?”

As Enteberol’s face filled the Visi-Sphere, Valmik had the odd feeling that the man was speaking directly to him alone. He also had the impression that the Mech-Tec would have preferred to be somewhere (anywhere!) else, but was doing his best to hide it.

“Ah, of course, Specialist! Well, you have been thinking in terms of moving ‘down’ to this point, ever since exiting the Flame. However, once in the lock you will need to adjust your terms of reference. Since the Indigo Flame is mated belly to belly with the Ship of the Ancients, via this contact craft, we will be going ‘up’ into the Ship’s interior. Simple really, but some people can find it a little confusing, at first.

The Ghost Patrol escorting our team have already set up what they call a ‘base camp’ at the other end of our lock, and my partner and I completed installing the booster relay just decads before I returned to escort you.”

He stopped talking, much to Valmik’s relief, and moved over to crouch over the controls set into the face of the airlock door. He stepped back as the door began to lift open, and the view seemed to zoom in as the specialist climbed into the surprisingly spacious interior.

And now all Valmik could concentrate on was the second door, the second set of controls: the interminable amount of time the Tec was taking to seal the hatch, and initiate atmospheric exchange.

He came close to passing out before he remembered that he wasn’t actually there, and there was absolutely no reason for him to be holding his breath.

 

Null rose up rapidly through the levels that lay between the Vault and the connector spine. Not only would he be able to travel faster along the ship here, but he wanted to check the integrity of the connection to the survival pod containing his crewmates. To his alarm, the long shaft he now raced along showed no evidence of its existence. The material of the surface above his head was totally devoid of the airlocks and structural bracing that should have dotted its length. Instead, the metals and composites that composed the spine appeared to be fused or melted, as if frozen in a state of flux.

He could not begin to imagine what could have caused such an effect, and continued on towards the flight deck with ever increasing urgency. By the time he had exited the spine and dropped down several more levels to face the access door, his visor was beginning to fog from his stress induced exhalations. He slowed down just long enough for his arrival to register, then leaped through before the door had even fully opened. His attention was instantly drawn to the light. Not the light in the access-way: this would have been triggered simultaneously with the door - no, he was more concerned by the dim glow at the top of the darkened slope. He had locked off the bridge himself, what felt like only a brief time ago, and now it was open!

With a muffled curse, Null ducked down lower so that he could run up the low-ceilinged corridor, the lighting strobing to his rapid passage. Fumbling at his helmet seals, with hands made clumsy by more than just the fat fingers of his gloves, he ripped it away with a grunt as he stormed onto the bridge, looking around wildly. He pulled up short when he noticed that his command seat was docked snugly with the Master Control Board…

Frowning in confusion, he stepped around it.

He distinctly remembered sliding the chair back before leaving the bridge - of course he had! He would have been unable to get out of the thing otherwise! Equally, he couldn’t imagine how anyone else would have been able to get out of the seat whilst it was still docked - or why they would even want to - when it was simply a matter of flicking a switch to disengage. He did this now, reaching for the controls set into the armrest with the hand not encumbered with his helmet. He watched thoughtfully as the seat slid back smoothly.

Before sitting down, Null carefully placed his flight helmet within easy reach, then removed his suit-gloves and placed them inside it. As he sank back into the formfitting seat-rest, he toggled the switch again, and found the MCB welcoming him once more into its embrace. A cursory examination revealed that it was still in sleep-mode, as it should be. With nimble fingers, he rapidly keyed in the wake up sequence and - in quick succession - activated all display screens and peripheral monitors. Almost as an afterthought, he also sealed and locked the bridge once more.

As the systems booted up, Null scanned the five empty crew positions that circled the bridge around him, noting with satisfaction that the slaved systems were also engaging. He called up the ship schematics and requested a status overview, then froze into the numbness of shock when the results lit the screen. The term ‘survival pod’ was something of a misnomer. His crewmates had evacuated to what was essentially a second ship, bolted on to the freighter Null was commanding. However, it could not be flown separately - it was truly part of his vessel. It contained their sleeping and living quarters, a stock of spare parts for any emergency repairs, and all their food and water.

It wasn’t there anymore.

Null found himself slipping into a fugue state: temporarily unaware of where he was, what the situation was, even who he was now. He was seeing Epsilon Tau, Beta Aristophanes - all of his creshe-mates - the first time they had been introduced after decanting. Before they had been assigned names by random algorithm. Before any of them had realized just how truly different they were from their ‘parents’ - those that had created them - and all the others. He relived it all, from then to now, and drew sustenance from the recollection. And then he saw his crew relinquishing control over their assigned posts, slaving their systems to his Master Control Board, promising to see him again at mission end: before repairing to their assigned chambers on the ‘Pod’.

And the truth slowly crept past his mental defenses, despite his anguished denial. He was the only one left - possibly the only one of his kind… The enormity of this realization stunned him… Crippled him. Null had no idea how long he had sat there grieving before a flashing warning light brought him back from the abyss.


	8. Chapter 8

The three time travelers blinked at each other in confusion, not entirely able to process what had just happened. The huge figure framed in the doorway had indeed been humanoid, although little more could be made of its appearance, as it was entirely concealed in some kind of protective suit. Zoe was hidden from view by the doorframe, but the Doctor and Jamie were standing directly in its path. They would have been clearly visible if the giant being had chanced to look down.

But it didn’t.

The Doctor had attempted to step forward to introduce himself (if he could make himself heard), when a colossal foot passed over his head: the titanic ‘spaceman’ had leapt through the doorway and pounded up towards the flight-deck at great speed. Jamie, looking as white as a sheet after so narrowly avoiding being stepped on, choked out in a shocked whisper. “Doctor! He didnae even see us!”

Feeling rather shaky himself, the Doctor nodded as he took the petrified Highlander’s arm and guided him over towards Zoe, who appeared to be frozen in place. He instinctively kept his voice low as he addressed them both, even though the chances of being overheard seemed somewhat remote. “Yes, Jamie, it would appear that our, um… host… is somewhat preoccupied at the moment.’ He glanced back nervously towards the flight-deck. ‘I suggest that we get through this door before it closes, then make ourselves scarce for a little while. Before the Tardis is discovered, preferably!”

For her part, Zoe was wondering if the Doctor hadn’t been correct all along. It was one thing to speculate about the likelihood of intelligent life-forms of such monumental proportions: cool, calm, logical theorizing was something that she excelled at, after all. It was an entirely different kettle of bananas to actually meet one!

All of Zoe’s hard earned scientific detachment had evaporated, to be replaced by an atavistic fear that she could neither control nor explain. At the Doctor’s words, however, her strength of character won out. Regaining her composure she asked, also in a low voice, “The Tardis? Do you think our arrival set of an alarm after all? Is that what brought the pilot here?”

The Doctor was studying the lip of the door-seal, and answered slightly dismissively, too worried to be polite. “I hardly think so, Zoe, we have been here for some time now, after all.

‘Regardless, I really do suggest that we hurry, my dear. We can save further discussion for later, eh?’ He indicated the doorway again. ‘It shouldn’t be too difficult - just a hop, skip, and a jump!”

He was referring to the raised seal that surrounded the doorway.

This was separated from one of an equal height on the opposite side only by the sliding track that the door itself had moved along. Jamie found that he could easily step up onto the frame, and the Doctor and Zoe only needed a steadying hand-up to join him. In unison they jumped across the gap, and thence down to the deck on the other side.

Just in time, as the door slid shut with only the faintest of hums behind them.

“Ah…’ the Doctor ruminated. “I was afraid of that… er, I think that we should avoid the next sensor along. We don’t want to risk attracting the attention of… well, let’s call him the pilot, as Zoe suggested… For now at least. What I mean to say is, we don’t want that door to open again just yet, do we?”

So saying, he got down on his hands and knees and began to crawl along the floor. Jamie and Zoe joined him, agreeing whole-heartedly with his reasoning. The companions actually crawled considerably beyond any possible detection range of the sensor, before they risked standing upright again. As they got a good look at their new location, Jamie despondently exclaimed, “Och! Is this sleepy ship made of nothing but corridors?”

“There’s only one way to find out, Jamie!’ the Doctor replied, attempting to sound enthusiastic, ‘let’s put our best feet forward! I think it advisable to put some distance between us and the pilot for the moment, perhaps find out more about what we’re dealing with here, exactly.’ He clapped a comradely arm across each of his friend’s shoulders.

The height difference between Jamie and Zoe made him look slightly absurd, but he pressed on gamely. ‘And while we do so, perhaps we can confabulate and extrapolate, and thereby reach some answers!”

“Eh?” asked Jamie.

Zoe, a puzzled frown creasing her forehead, asked, “Doctor, is Jamie trying to suggest that this is a ‘sleeper ship’? Could that be why it seems so empty?”

“That is one possibility that I have been considering, Zoe, yes.’ Agreed the Doctor as he disengaged himself, beckoning his friends to follow him as he started walking. ‘But we really haven’t seen enough yet to be sure, not at all. I must say that so far I cannot begin to guess the purpose of this vessel - it all looks fairly non-descript to me.’

He was passing what he assumed to be some sort of structural bracing, a support column jutting from the wall, as he said this: one of the many that broke up this latest corridor at regular intervals. As the lighting kept pace with them, the Doctor’s own frown deepened. ‘This really is most peculiar, you know. There don’t appear to be any side-doors, or hatches or whatever, leading off this corridor - I wonder why that is?”

“Probably because you are looking in the wrong place, Doctor!” Jamie exclaimed behind him. He turned to see both Zoe and the young Scot gazing up at the ceiling. He followed Jamie’s pointing finger, then blinked.

“Oh my word!’ The Doctor remarked, as he studied the very obvious hatch far above. ‘Well, our large friend back there may be able to reach that, but it doesn’t do us much good, does it? Perhaps we should look for similar hatches, but set into the floor, as we proceed. If we don’t find any by the time we get to the other end… well, maybe that would suggest that we are on the lowest level of this vessel. Possibly. It’s somewhere to start, at least!”

None of them looked particularly convinced by this line of reasoning as they set off again, not even the Doctor.

 

With the Indigo Flame docked against the huge Ship of the Ancients, the war mantis’ command hub was unusually still and quiet. The large forward view simulator was relaying the feed from the boarding party, and most of the crew on duty were able to watch this, whilst monitoring their own systems only occasionally.

Silandor had once more engaged the privacy screen around his command throne, this time joined by Sub-Commander Talamane. They were watching a different feed, this one showing the various enclaves as they watched a delayed transmission on the Visi-Sphere. Talamane found it somewhat odd, reviewing the same footage that had been playing on the main screen only 0.5 decads ago, but the Clade Commander was much more interested in the reactions of the gathered experts. “I think our friends are hooked, don’t you, Sub-Commander?”

“As you say, Sir. I believe that this should keep them well occupied while we go about our other investigations.”

Silandor nodded agreement, then glanced up at her. “Any further word from the Ghost Patrol we sent in earlier, that I need to be aware of?”

“No change, Commander’, Talamane assured him, ‘just routine check-ins. As per your instructions, Ghost First Faramandar only made a preliminary sweep of the area immediately surrounding the entry point. As you know, the only minor difficulty was presented by the sheer size of the derelicts interior.

Your brother’s patrol are all skilled climbers, however, so they have been holding station since confirming that the vessel was safe for our… for our ‘first’ team to board. They await your orders, Sir.”

“Excellent.’ Silandor greeted the report with satisfaction, returning his attention to the larger screen at the front of the hub. ‘Confirm my previous instructions. They are to remain in concealment until Palasar’s group are safely on their way, then patch their own communications systems into that Mech-Tec’s booster relay. It will be more efficient than continuing to hide their transmissions in the sensor feeds. They are then to undertake a more thorough examination of the derelict whilst our guests are busy with the Specialist’s transmission.”

As he rose from his throne, Silandor disengaged the privacy screen. Talamane backed away as he stepped down, then turned to follow him as he descended to the command deck. The Clade Commander was completely focused on the primary view-screen now, but he murmured an aside to her just before she left. “Do come and join me when your task is done, my Second Spear. This is the best view in the house - and it promises to be most interesting.”

 

As Palasar raised herself into the Ship of the Ancients, the first thing she noticed was the sheer size of the place. She had expected it, of course: she knew the legends as well as any Oortelian, but to actually be confronted with such a large space was… unnerving, to say the least. Still, stepping fully onto the deck, Palasar continued to report what she saw: it gave her a much needed sense of distance - she was simply an observer of events.

Conscious that everything that she witnessed not only had an audience, but was also being recorded for posterity, Palasar decided to be thorough. (Although she fantasized about racing down this corridor in search of a living, breathing Ancient!) Behind her, Enteberol was shutting and locking down their access to the contact craft. A little way beyond him, a female Tec-Op was fussing over an array of devices sprouting from the deck, presumably improvements or additions to the sensors fed through the hull. Palasar assumed that the largest of these was the booster array. She made a mental note to question the woman later.

Continuing her turn, Palasar noted what appeared to be a huge portal set into the far bulkhead, then she panned around still further, taking in the featureless wall opposite. She continued her turn until she reached what must be the ghost patrol’s ‘base camp’.

In truth, it was nothing more than a convenient area of deck that had been chosen to create an equipment store - not too far from the airlock itself, in fact. A few troopers were sorting out items of kit that they might need, occasionally breaking off to gaze around in awe. With a start, Palasar became aware that one of them was observing her closely.

Realizing that his scrutiny had been noticed, he strode towards her.

“Welcome aboard, Specialist.’ He rasped, in a surprisingly quiet voice.

He was nearly as tall as the Clade Commander himself, but carried much less bulk. Still, the abbreviated combat harness he wore did little to disguise the steel-cord muscles that writhed and twitched as he approached her. ‘I am the First of your escort patrol, you may call me First.”

Palasar noticed that, although he was talking to her, his appraising gaze was just off to her right.  Evidently he was aware of - and none too pleased about - the visualiser built into her helmet.

“Thank you, First,’ she responded automatically, ‘could you bring me up to speed, please?”

“Of course.’ He nodded. Then, making no pretense to disguise the fact, he began to address the visi-com directly. ‘So far we have simply prepped this location, awaiting your arrival, and my troops have been testing their climbing gear: standard procedure, of course.” Palasar followed his indicating gesture upwards, and was startled to see several soldiers scuttling across the ceiling. Reduced in scale by the distance, their familiar lizard-like undulations brought back fond childhood memories. If it weren’t for the lack of a tail, each trooper could almost be taken for a hatchling.

The First hadn’t noticed her surprise, too busy watching his soldiers. “As you can see, our magna-clamps work perfectly well on the structure of this ship. Additionally, the Tec team have made some small progress on scanning the vessel’s interior. Unfortunately, the central mass of the ship is completely unreadable. Apparently it just appears as a void. There are more decks above us, and as yet unidentified spaces to either side. We appear to have only two options at present, Specialist.”

Palasar was nodding her understanding, as she studied the darkened corridor stretching out behind the officer, then forced herself to stop. The motion might not be too pleasant for those watching the feed, she had realized.

“I understand, First. We can either head towards the rear of the Ship, see if we can find a way through the walls or ceiling…’ She turned her back on him, studying the giant portal more closely than she had before. ‘Or we try to get through that!’

‘Any objections, First?” She asked, turning back around to face him enquiringly.

“None at all, Specialist. In fact, I concur. It makes sense to at least try the nearest visible door, does it not?”

Palasar thought she detected an undertone of humour in the First’s reply, but took no umbrage. It was the obvious choice, after all.

“Indeed it does, First. Please assemble your troops. I wish to speak with the Tec’s for a few moments, then we shall proceed.”

 

Much to her own surprise, Zoe was actually beginning to feel a little bored as they tromped along these seemingly endless corridors. The first one hadn’t been as long as it had initially appeared; the peculiar lighting arrangement had made judging distances difficult. Unfortunately, the next door merely opened into another section of corridor, identical to the first.

At least, on The Wheel, the corridors had actually led somewhere! But not here: each section was compartmentalized, presumably a safety measure as the Doctor had suggested. Jamie, looking fit and spry as ever, had taken to stomping ahead to activate the next light sensor along; then ambling back to walk alongside his slower companions.

He was obviously hoping that they would find something interesting soon, as he diligently continued to scan all around. The Doctor had fallen into quiet reflection in the absence of anything to comment on. If she was honest with herself, Zoe had to admit that she had stopped paying too much attention to his - initially - enthusiastic speculations; realizing that they were little more than guesswork. Now that they were approaching yet another doorway, the Doctor called a halt.

“We really don’t appear to be achieving very much, do we?’ he asked his friends glumly. It was a rhetorical question, so he didn’t wait for a response. Gripping his lapels firmly he announced his decision. ‘I have come to the conclusion that… We really have no option but to return to that flight deck. We must attempt to communicate with that pilot chap, and keep our fingers crossed that he is friendly!”

Jamie was none too keen on that suggestion, so he hedged, “Aye, Doctor, but should we no’ try this door first, just in case?”

The Doctor gazed questioningly at Zoe, who nodded and agreed, “It would be a bit silly to leave without even taking a look, wouldn’t it? For all we know, all the answers we need could be just behind that door!”

“Oh! I couldn’t agree more!’ replied the Doctor, looking enthusiastic once more at that tantalizing prospect. ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained, eh? Very well, one last door before we go back! Jamie… Zoe… you know what to do…”

After the shock of encountering the giant spaceman, the Doctor had insisted that any further doors should be approached with a little more caution. The procedure had become almost routine. Zoe went to the left wall of the corridor, Jamie to the right, and the Doctor stayed in the center. That way the youngsters were concealed from view, by the bulkheads either side of the doorway, while the Doctor got a good look through the door as it opened.

On this particular occasion, the results were a little different as the door hummed aside. The Doctor’s expression of almost child-like anticipation froze on his face, and he slowly began to raise his hands above his head. Keeping his gaze fixed firmly forwards, he attempted to speak under his breath, without actually moving the grin on his face. He sounded like a very bad ventriloquist.

“Ah... Now then, both of you… I want you to listen very carefully - I shall say this only once.”


	9. Chapter 9

“What on Oortelia is that?” Sub Commander Talamane’s bark of surprise seemed to sum up what everyone in the hub was thinking, as the huge portal onscreen whisked open unexpectedly. Framed in the opening was a small… creature.

Although its lower half was partially obscured by the bottom lip of the door-seal, it was clearly Oortelianoid - two arms, two legs, one head. But there the resemblance ended. Those parts of its anatomy not concealed by protective clothing were an unpleasant pinkish-white color, and there was a thatch of dark fur on the top of its head.

Silandor studied it in absolute fascination. Those troopers that had not scattered to covering positions up the walls instantly, formed a cordon around Palasar and the two Tec’s. The odd little alien obviously had rudimentary intelligence, as it raised its arms in submission on seeing them. Yet, paradoxically, it was also baring its very unimpressive teeth rather aggressively. Silandor hoped that Specialist Palasar would recover from her surprise soon. If she did not assert her authority rapidly, the strange little creature might be hurt.

“Clade Commander, Sir!’ the Specialist crewing Palasar’s position called out. ‘Do you want me to interrupt the feed to the Enclaves, Sir? I can make it look like a technical malfunction.”

Silandor studied the events transpiring onscreen thoughtfully, considering and discarding various options with lightning speed, then murmured. “No, Specialist…’ he paused to look down into the trench, ‘what is your name?”

“Manonkar, Sir. Specialist Second Manonkar.”

“No, Specialist Manonkar, I don’t think that will be necessary.’ Silandor returned his attention to the screen. ‘Although I commend your prompt thinking. I would like to see the Honored Elders… reactions… when they view the feed. This alien could prove to be a useful diversion for them. Let it play.”

 

The blinking light on the right-hand curve of his board momentarily puzzled Null, before his mind caught up and training kicked in. Cancelling it with a sharp tap he transferred the data to the main display monitor: the ship schematic still showing was rotated, and zoomed-in to an area of the lower hull. An overlay indicated some kind of breach in structural integrity at this location, but little detail. Not for the first time he cursed the fact that this converted hulk lacked the state-of-the-art sensor systems of a front-line combat vessel.

Manually isolating the affected area, he leant closer to the screen (as if this would help!) and squinted at the curious readings. He noted that, whatever the damage, it presented no immediate danger to the ship - indeed, it appeared to have been repaired: he could detect no venting of atmosphere. Frowning thoughtfully, Null called up a life-sign scan.

There was a peculiar diffuseness, a blurring, surrounding the damaged area; but nothing coherent enough to be positively identified as a life-form. If anything, it reminded Null of nothing more than an organic trace reading from a battle zone, as if someone (or something) had been dismembered in an explosion. Perhaps there had been an aspiring intruder, but he had blown himself to pieces in the process!

Leaning away from his controls, Null rested against the seatback and centered himself. He felt empty. Inside he was just a void, and a humorless smile brushed his lips at the notion. His name was now morbidly appropriate, it seemed.

There was nothing left to him now but duty and responsibility; his imperative to protect the precious cargo sealed away in The Vault. However, there appeared to be no immediate threat, so he went about his preparations calmly and methodically; more automaton than living, feeling being.

First he checked the power storage cells and atmospheric regulators. He grunted when he noted that there had been very little loss to either since he had disengaged the main drives. Deciding to leave the Oxy-Gen systems in reserve - the air still present was sufficient for his purposes - Null keyed in the instructions to re-initialize ship wide ambient lighting.

This might take a while to come into full effect, but he considered it necessary. He intended to search every micron of his vessel if required - he wanted to banish the shadows.

Next he removed a small chip from his wrist comp and carefully slotted it into a port in the MCB. After double-checking that he had the correct link - the one for the Bio-Trace Scanner set into the board - he uploaded the data it contained. After returning the data-chip to his wrist-comp, Null slowly scanned the flight deck as he considered what else he might do.

Oddly, he felt no sense of urgency, no real connection to his predicament - certainly no personal fear. He found himself pondering this as he flipped the arm-rest switch and the seat slid back. He rose from his station. Ignoring his helmet and gloves, Null leant on the back of his seat and glanced, for the first time, towards the rear of the bridge.

And froze.

Nestled in one rear corner of his bridge was a small blue box! It looked completely out of place against the plain metallic surface of the bulkheads, almost shabby and battered looking. He had no idea what it was.

Perhaps it had been left behind as a joke by one of his crew - he wouldn’t put it past Beta Aristophanes to find such tomfoolery amusing!

But then… why hadn’t he noticed it before, during his lonely vigil prior to entering Isolation? And where would Aristophanes even have found such an odd looking object? As he approached the box slowly, he noted that it came to just below knee height, and was pocked with rectangular indentations. Going down on one knee he reached for it cautiously, still half expecting the top to come flying off as soon as he touched it. He had visions of being showered in confetti or, knowing Aristophanes, emergency sealant gel.

However, nothing happened when Null picked the box up in both hands, although he did notice a faint tingling sensation in his fingers. Shaking it vigorously gave no clue as to its contents. He held it to an ear and listened intently, then snorted in self-derision.

Had he subconsciously expected the damn thing to be ticking?

Returning to his command station, he attempted to open the box, but the top refused come off no matter how hard he pulled. After one final examination, to see if there was a hidden catch or release that he hadn’t noticed, Null placed the perplexing object onto his seat. He would deal with it later.

Leaning over the control board, he punched the access key and waited for the bridge exit to open once more.

 

Palasar stepped past the trooper kneeling before her and raised an arm into the air. “Nobody fire!” She shouted with as much authority as she could muster. The bizarre being that had surprised everyone so much appeared to be trying to talk. (Was its face frozen in that unpleasant grimace through fear?)

“First!’ she shouted again, ‘Please instruct your soldiers to lower their weapons and back away, I think they are frightening it. You go too.”

The two Tec’s backed away slowly at her command, never taking their eyes off the strange looking alien.

When she stood alone before it, Palasar spread her arms wide, to show that she held no weapons. The creature seemed to be reassured by this, as it lowered its own arms in order to negotiate the door-seal, then raised them again after jumping down. It advanced towards her cautiously, seeming to relax - slightly - only as the massive portal hummed shut behind it.

“Ah… Greetings, er… I come in peace, I do assure you!’ it said, in strangely accented, but perfectly understandable Oortelian! ‘Would you mind terribly if I put my arms down now?’ The First arrived by Palasar’s shoulder, obviously intimidating the creature, as it hurriedly added. ‘I’m the Doctor. I’m really quite harmless, I promise!”

“Then why do you threaten the Specialist with your pitiful teeth?” First rasped suspiciously.

Immediately the lines and folds in Thadokta’s curiously malleable face dropped into a different configuration. (Palasar wondered if the process was as painful as it looked!) “Oh! Oh dear… have I made a boo-boo? I do apologize! You see, where I come from, people smile at each other to show that they are friendly! And I do want to be friendly… don’t you?” He asked hopefully.

Palasar gave Thadokta permission to lower his hands.

He did so gratefully, almost baring his teeth again before thinking better of it, and thanked her.

She studied him carefully, hoping that the First would allow her to do the talking, then realized that both he and Thadokta were waiting politely for just that. Unfortunately, Palasar had so many questions; felt so out of her area of expertise, that she just blurted out. “You don’t look like an Ancient!” Beside her, First snorted.

Thadokta’s face rearranged itself with bewildering rapidity, the small patches of fur over each eye rising upwards, creasing the flesh above. “Don’t I? Well, that’s very reassuring… so kind of you to say so, Specialist…?”

“Specialist Third Palasar.”

“Well, Palasar… I may call you Palasar, mayn’t I?’ he waited for her nod before continuing. ‘Admittedly, I’m no spring chicken… perhaps a mature Cheddar, but I’m hardly an Ancient. Why? Were you expecting to find one?”

“No, Thadokta,’ she sighed, regretting her foolish outburst, ‘we didn’t expect to find anything alive on this Ship. Your presence here raises so many questions, I do not know where to start.” (This was true, but Palasar knew that she should not have admitted it, especially not in front of the First.) But… she felt no threat at all from Thadokta: indeed, even given his strange countenance, Palasar felt relaxed and comfortable in his presence.

To forestall any interruption from First, she quickly went on. “Are there any more of you, Thadokta? What are you doing on this ship? How did you get here? How do you come to speak our language?”

Thadokta hesitated, as if uncertain how to answer. He looked speculatively towards First, then again asked Palasar quietly, “Are you friendly?”

Looking directly up into First’s unreadable face, Palasar stated. “Nothing will happen to you, Thadokta, without the explicit approval of Clade Commander Silandor.’

Receiving First’s silent agreement, she faced Thadokta again. ‘I am sure he will be keen to question you himself - soon.’ (Needing no further instruction, the First stalked back towards the airlock to make preparations.) ‘If you would accompany me, Thadokta, perhaps you could answer my questions as we walk?”

“Certainly, Palasar, I would be delighted to.’ Thadokta didn’t appear to be delighted, as far as she could tell, and kept glancing back at the portal through which he had so unexpectedly arrived. ‘But I do have a rather important one my own, as well.’

He was glancing around as they walked, and actually jumped when he noticed the troopers clinging to the walls. ‘Oh my word! How extraordinary! Um… I take it that you are also visitors on this vessel, Palasar, and you believe that it was flown by these ‘Ancients’?”

Palasar assured him that this was the case.

“Hmm…  Of course… I realized that I had been operating under a false assumption as soon as I saw you people. We are not all that different in size, after all. I will have to place my trust in your good intentions, and perhaps even give you a warning.”

As they arrived at the now open airlock, Palasar allowed Thadokta to turn her round, until she faced the massive portal again. “To answer your earlier questions,’ he said, ‘there is only one of me, but two dear friends of mine are behind that door. We arrived here by accident, and our ship was damaged - all that we really want to do is leave! As for speaking your language… well… let’s call it a gift, shall we?’ He paused for breath, then asked Palasar urgently, ‘but more importantly, are these Ancients of yours giants, by any chance?”

Somewhat startled by the question, Palasar blinked affirmation and nodded simultaneously. “So all the legends say, Thadokta, yes.”

“Ah… then perhaps I should tell you that my friends and I came very close to meeting one a little earlier - and he was very much alive!”

 

“Specialist Manonkar.’ Silandor’s voice remained quiet and calm, yet still carried an urgency that could not be ignored, ‘I believe now would be a good time for that ‘technical malfunction’ you mentioned earlier.”


	10. Chapter 10

Ghost First Faramandar stared down into the section of the ship below, a thin band of light creating a brighter stripe across his face. He was deeply troubled by this unanticipated turn of events, and determined to wrest some strategic advantage from the situation he found himself in.

He quickly ran through his patrols performance to date. Everything really had progressed exactly as expected - until now.

On entering the derelict, Faramandar and his team had followed Clade Commander Silandor’s instructions to the letter, restricting themselves to scouting out the areas in the immediate vicinity of the entry airlock only. Of course, other than the peculiar anomaly of a comfortable, breathable atmosphere; there were no signs of life.

But then, they hadn’t really expected to find any - not on a derelict as old as this one was believed to be.

Sending half his team to cover the further reaches of the ridiculously sized corridor that they found themselves in, Faramandar himself led the investigation of the massive portal nearest the entry point. There had been a tense moment, as the huge portal glided open at the patrol’s approach, but what was revealed was anti-climactic, to say the least.

Another corridor, seemingly identical to the first. As they proceeded towards the, as yet unseen, far end - several troopers commented on how the lighting accompanied them. Ghost Second Exetrallus was the first to spot the hatchway in the distant ceiling and, after drawing it to her First's attention, she had instructed a couple of troopers to climb up and inspect it.

As they began their ascent of the wall, Faramandar had added the proviso that they should not attempt to pass through the hatch until his return: then he led the rest of his half-patrol off at a brisk pace, seeing no reason for caution on this ghost ship. After traversing two more huge doorways, and finding nothing new in the following sections worthy of note, he had backtracked to receive the climbers report.

It was not encouraging.

There appeared to be two methods of opening the ceiling hatch, the first being an oversized keypad in some indecipherable script. This was hardly a problem, as they didn’t know the sequence required anyway.

However, one minor problem was the difficulty of actually depressing the large buttons, while hanging upside down from the ceiling! This problem was multiplied, when tackling what appeared to be a mechanical opening system set into the surface of the hatch itself. The two troopers believed that they understood the operation of the mechanism, but had been physically unable to move it, without any leverage.

Ghost Second Exetrallus had volunteered to attempt the task, with a larger number of troopers. Faramandar had total faith in her competence, so left her to take charge; opting to return to the entry lock in the previous section, to wait for the report from his other half-patrol. They were not long in returning: although they had covered more distance, they had done it faster. Aside from several more ceiling hatches, they had found no other apparent way out of this interminable corridor.

This presented the Ghost First with a problem. Silandor’s instructions had been explicit. Once his patrol had confirmed the status of the derelict’s interior - at least those areas where the official exploratory team would be operating - they were to find concealment. Their presence was not to be revealed to the others. But apart from the structural support beams marching down the length of the corridors - there was nowhere to hide!

A further consideration, one that had nagged at Faramandar’s sense of professionalism, was that he did not wish to declare the derelict ‘secure’ until he had at least managed to see a little bit more of it!

Fortunately, a runner arrived declaring Exetrallus’ teams success in opening their chosen hatch, so it was with great relief that he had ordered the patrol’s advance up to the next level.

The next level had proved to be of interest, only in the fact that it would provide a place of concealment from the next group’s arrival.

It was another corridor, albeit with a few significant differences.

No sensor operated lighting greeted their arrival, merely a dim gloom, and there was a noticeable chill in the air.

Thankfully it was still breathable, so this caused no hardship, and Faramandar permitted the use of lumen-pods and optical augments: the patrol could see well enough, even when the brighter light spilling up from the hatch had winked out.

The most notable difference was the number of doors evident.

Unlike the level they had just left, this one had side doors in each section; but the keypads that evidently opened them were still indecipherable. Although it was tantalizing to think that more important - or at least more interesting - sections of the ship were just beyond reach, Faramandar called a halt to the exploration.

After composing a brief but concise report, and sending a trooper to communicate with the Indigo Flame, all that remained to do was figure out a way to keep the hatch slightly open. Exetrallus had pointed out that this would provide a good warning of the official team’s arrival, when they entered the section below.

The sensor activated lighting from below would shine up like a beacon when that door opened.

Then came the waiting.

 

The troops were freed to break out cold rations, practice their wall-climbing skills, or even doze if they chose. (Faramandar didn’t want anyone to go into a full sleep in the chilly atmosphere.) By the time the thin shaft of light shone up through the narrow hatch opening, Faramandar had begun to feels the effects of torpor in himself; but his lethargy vanished instantly as the trooper stationed there beckoned him over urgently.

He didn’t understand why man looked so alarmed, this was what they had been waiting for after all.

However, instead of the expected exploratory team, he found himself looking down upon three strange… creatures. In general size and form, they bore a similarity to his own people, but even from this distance and angle it was clear that they were aliens!

This was so far beyond any expectations that Faramandar actually froze for several moments. This proved fortunate in some ways, as one of the creatures stepped toward the giant doorway as it opened, providing a clear view of the Oortelians in the next section. Clearly they were just as startled by the little creature’s appearance.

Confidant that he could not be seen by his fellow crewmembers below, Faramandar observed the scene carefully. The little biped appeared to be talking, or at least surrendering, although it was too far away to be heard. Then it struggled over the lip of the door-frame and approached the ‘first’ team. The door slid closed and cut off Faramandar’s view of that section, so he turned his attention to the two aliens that had remained behind.

By now he was furious that he had allowed events to get so far beyond his control, although he had to concede that it could have been worse. Had he taken immediate action to capture these creatures, doubtless his soldiers would have been seen by the other Oortelian party.

However, the two still in the corridor below apparently remained unknown to the exploration team, and Faramandar intended that it should stay that way. Selecting four of his best troops, he described the situation and issued rapid instructions. When the hatch had been carefully opened further, just enough to allow their passage, they each slid sinuously into the level below. As silent as the dead, they began to crawl across the ceiling towards their targets.

 

Jamie and Zoe were engaged in a harshly whispered discussion, trying to shout to each other without actually making any noise. This had begun as soon as the giant door had hummed shut behind the Doctor: they were still trying to decipher his garbled instructions. It had been alarming to hear that they were not to follow him! Jamie, in particular, was chafing at being unable to do anything - if he complied with the Doctors wishes.

“But we cannae see nor hear what is going on beyond yon door, Zoe!’ He hissed in impotent fury, ‘anything could be happening to the Doctor, and we wouldnae ken!” His fists were clenched in frustration as he tried to restrain the urge to hit the bulkhead.

Zoe knew just how he felt, but having decided that she would have to be the sensible one, limited her response to repeated advice for caution. “You heard the Doctor, Jamie! He said we should wait until he had established contact with - well, whoever it was he saw in the next section! I expect we would only confuse things if we went rushing in after him!”

“Aye, you’re right, Zoe, I know that well enough,’ Jamie sighed unhappily, ‘but I just feel so helpless, no’ being able to do anything! We shouldnae have split up, I reckon.’ He made a visible effort to calm himself, rubbing the back of his head thoughtfully.

Sliding his gaze away from Zoe, Jamie considered the sensor on her side of the corridor speculatively, then snapped his fingers as an idea struck him. ‘I have it, Zoe! If I get down very low to the doors corner, and you walk back past yon sensor, I could take a quick peek. If I’m fast, I don’t expect I would be seen, eh!”

“You’re not thinking it through, Jamie.’ Zoe replied, frowning in frustration herself as she eyed the door dubiously. ‘Anyone on the other side would expect to see something if a sensor activated door opens. Even if they don’t see you, I am sure they would investigate, to find out why the door opened itself - wouldn’t you?’

Her heart went out to the young Scot as he slumped against the wall in disappointment, nodding his agreement, and looking thoroughly disgusted with himself. ‘Really, Jamie, I’m just as worried as you are, honestly! I just think that we should do what the Doctor told us: we must wait here until he is sure everything is safe, then he will come back and get us. I’m sure the Doctor won’t just leave us here.”

Still looking rather glum, Jamie found himself forced to agree. “Aye, that’s what he told us to do, right enough, but it fair sticks in ma craw! I’ll no’ be waiting for too long, mind - if he’s no’ back in a couple of minutes…”

The two friends were so engrossed in their sotto voce argument, that they remained completely oblivious to the stealthy shapes, silently slinking down the bulkheads towards them - until it was too late!

 

Null was in no particular hurry as he headed for the corridor section where the hull breach, or whatever it was, had been recorded.

He made a cursory examination of every ceiling hatch as he passed; no more than a quick tug to see that each was secure really. He honestly didn’t expect to find anything amiss, it was more a token gesture, as he made his way towards the source of the alert. Besides, even if he had opened the hatches, he wouldn’t have been able to see much with just a quick glance, and that was all he would have spared.

No. Far better to investigate the one anomaly that had actually been reported by the ships systems first, then proceed from there. He figured that, by the time he reached the damaged section, the ambient lighting would have initiated ship-wide, allowing him to make a thorough examination of his command, section by section.

In truth, Null wasn’t really fully concentrating on the search yet: his mind still full of the mystery of the missing part of the ship - the part containing his crew.

Still, as each door hummed aside for him he continued to go through the motions; examining the bulkheads for any signs of damage, any indication that something was amiss. So far, he had found nothing that even hinted at an answer to his questions.

Everything looked totally normal.


	11. Chapter 11

As she stood at her duty station, Sub-Commander Talamane - Second Spear of the war-mantis Indigo Flame - was beginning to wish that she had considerably more eyes than the two she was hatched with! Although she was (justifiably) confidant of her abilities as Second-in-Command, Talamane was very glad that the Clade Commander was in charge of this particular mission.

She preferred clear cut directives and objectives, not all this subterfuge and misdirection. She wasn’t even entirely sure she knew everything that was going on herself, not anymore, yet Silandor gave no indication of sharing her concerns. The man appeared to be able to think on so many levels at once – although she knew for a fact that he had refused augmentation of any kind, on the grounds that he didn’t need the distraction. As she attended the Commander and awaited further instructions, Talamane continued to observe the events showing on the main view-screen.

She saw Thadokta, the odd little alien that had been discovered aboard the derelict, trying to protest as he was helped into the airlock by two troopers.

“Please, Palasar!’ he was pleading in his peculiar accent, ‘I’m more than happy to meet this ‘Clade Commander’ of yours, but at least let me collect my friends first!”

“Don’t worry, Thadokta’, came Palasar’s disembodied voice as the view zoomed in and her hand clasped his shoulder, ‘I promise to greet your friends personally. However, from what you have said, it is even more urgent that you meet with Commander Silandor without delay - your information could change the entire nature of this mission! I do not have the authority to proceed further in such unexpected circumstances.’   

Thadokta appeared to be about to protest further, but the female trooper was gently pushing his head down, while her male counterpart started pulling the hatch down after them. As the airlock closed, Palasar could be heard to promise, ‘I will collect your friends, Thadokta, you have my word.”

“I become more and more impressed with that young woman.’ The Commanders voice startled Talamane - she had not noticed his close approach. Silandor leant down to her ear and spoke even more quietly than usual. ‘I need to speak to Thadokta as soon as possible, have him brought directly to the hub. Then I want you to supervise Thraxle… doubtless he will need assistance when the Visi-Sphere shows our unexpected visitor! You are to inform him that Thadokta will be made available for questioning by the enclaves, after he has been...

‘Cleared by Medi-Bay. Yes, that sounds convincing.’

These instructions delivered, Silandor immediately turned away from Talamane and barked. ‘Specialist Manonkar, confirm that the feed to the Visi-Sphere is no longer functional.”

“Confirmed, Clade Commander, it dropped out a short while ago. We appear to be having a problem with the cable link to Specialist Palasar’s helmet feed at that juncture, Sir.”

“Unfortunate. Do any of the other team members have a direct link to the Visi-Sphere?”

“That’s a negative, Sir. Other feeds than Palasar’s can only be monitored from here in the hub.”

“Hmm… Probably for the best.” The deliberate note of irony in his statement was not lost on Talamane.

Silandor grinned in satisfaction then, after a quick glance at her, made his way back to his command throne. Noting that the Commander did not engage his privacy field, Talamane checked that her instructions had been received, then announced, “Thadokta is being escorted here now, Sir.” Silandor blinked acknowledgement, then returned his attention to his personal view-screen, presumably examining the secured feeds.

Talamane initiated augment contact with Coms-Spec Thraxle, only to hear a muted buzz of interference, before his ‘voice’ cleared through the static. He sounded distinctly agitated. Mentally castigating herself, she hurriedly accessed the visual feed on her panel. She wished that she had thought to warn Thraxle earlier…

When Thadokta had originally been discovered might have been best!

 

A profoundly shocked silence gripped the various enclave representatives, as an alien creature became the focus of the Visi-Sphere display.

This lasted only until the creature began speaking - speaking in understandable Oortelian! The ripple of disbelief that spread though the amphitheater was broken by Theoretical Possibilities First Revelar, whose startled shout of “That looks like an evolved Mammal!” combined both incredulity and vindication.

Thus opened the floodgates. Suddenly everyone was on their feet and talking at once: an incoherent babble that served only to confuse matters further.

At his operations console at the base of the Visi-Sphere, Tec-Op Imanol, being in such close proximity to the visualization, was feeling distinctly nauseous. The way the flesh of this odd creature’s face constantly re-configured itself… It just wasn’t natural! He turned his attention to Coms-Spec Thraxle, hoping that he might have some instructions for him, but the man was just standing at the edge of the stage in slack-jawed amazement.

Imanol managed to get his attention with some urgent hand signals, and was relieved to see Thraxle shake himself out of his fascination. The creature in the Visi-Sphere still appeared to be speaking, but its words could not be heard over the arguments of the assembled intellectuals.

Stepping to the front of the stage Thraxle attempted to restore order, but even when - much to his surprise - Archivist First Valmik joined him onstage to urge calm; neither could make themselves heard. Thraxle momentarily regretted the injunction that had prevented him from bringing a weapon along, if only so he could fire it into the ceiling and thereby get this rabbles attention, then smiled to himself wryly. It had been a sensible precaution, he was forced to admit: the temptation to fire into the audience may have proved too strong!

Shaking his head, he left the Archivist to his futile exhortations and crossed over to the Tec-Op. He had to lean in close to the man to make his instructions heard, but was satisfied to observe him address  the Visi-Sphere’s console once more, adjusting a large dial as he did so.

“Admittedly, I’m no spring chicken, perhaps a mature Cheddar, but I’m hardly…” The alien’s voice boomed out at a physically painful volume for a moment, before Imanol dialed it back down to silence, overcompensating as his tympanic membranes hummed with white noise. The tactic appeared to have the desired effect though. Everyone present had hands clamped to their heads, eyes slightly glazed with shock. Many of those standing were having difficulty maintaining their balance. Some slumped back into their seats, or leant against others for support.

Thraxle helped the Archivist First back to his feet - the old man had fallen to his knees under the sonic assault - then, after receiving his reassurance that Valmik was alright, turned to regard the Visi-Sphere once more. The alien (had it called itself ‘Thadokta’?) was still talking, still the focus of attention. However, Thraxle heard only a faint buzzing as his tympanic membranes recovered: perhaps the Tec had been a little too enthusiastic in following his instructions, he thought ruefully.

Suddenly he felt the familiar alert twinge, as his communications augment was activated. As the room began to settle down, and everyone felt their hearing return to something approaching normal, Thraxle left it to the Archivist First to assert control over his fellows. He was more interested in the information being relayed to him by Sub-Commander Talamane.

For his part, Valmik was recovering himself by sheer force of will, his determination fueled more by anger at his colleagues’ hysteria than by anything else. Whilst he would freely admit that what they were witnessing was totally beyond either proposed or accepted theory, the Archivist First felt personally shamed by this descent into unscientific reactions - if not outright panic! Although he deeply resented the crude tactic employed to bring the audience to heel, Valmik had every intention of using this lull to restore dignity and professionalism to the proceedings.

“You call yourselves Scientists?’ He bellowed, every word dripping with rage and contempt. ‘You call yourselves Philosophers? Theorists? Intellectuals?’ Valmik paced along the stage, gaining strength from his vitriol. He made sure to sweep his gaze across everyone that he could, trying to give the impression that he was addressing each of them personally. ‘We have all made this journey expressly to discover the unknown, have we not? Yes, we may have our own expectations, our own preconceptions, even our own personal hopes! But do we not also have enquiring minds? Maybe this… this ‘evolved mammal’ is beyond anything that we may have anticipated - but is that any excuse to lose hold of our senses? This alien is intelligent! It speaks our language! And it is on The Ship of The Ancients!

‘Think about that for a moment…”

Valmik swept his gaze across the auditorium once more, pleased to find the majority of his fellows looking distinctly uncomfortable. Many were now shifting in their seats, expressions ranging from embarrassment to shame: the First’s - those who would meet his eyes - merely looked somewhat chagrined, as they blinked slow acknowledgement of his words.

As silence slowly fell, Valmik realized that he could no longer hear anything from the Visi-Sphere. Turning to face it he noted that it still showed a view of the alien, although the sound had obviously been muted completely - by mistake, he hoped. 

“Since this unusual being is obviously able to talk to us…’ Valmik gestured an interrogative towards the operator who, on receiving a nod of permission from his distracted looking superior, began increasing the volume slowly. As he left the stage to resume his seat, Valmik continued, with enough authority for it to be heard as a directive, ‘I strongly suggest that we listen to it!”

Settling himself comfortably, the Archivist First made a great show of directing his complete and total attention to the scene being relayed from the Ship.

Currently, they were following the alien as it was being escorted to the airlock that, Valmik recognized, lead back to their own vessel. Two troopers could be seen waiting by the open hatch, then the alien’s face grew larger in the screen, causing a few involuntary flinches amongst the viewers.  “There is only one of me, but two dear friends of mine are behind that door. We arrived here by accident, and our ship was damaged - all that we really want to do is leave! As for speaking your language… well… let’s call it a gift, shall we?”    

The alien paused and then, if Valmik was interpreting its unfamiliar physiognomy correctly, appeared about to say something that it believed to be of some importance - when the Visi-Sphere suddenly went blank without warning! All eyes fixed on the man operating the device, and he immediately leaned back and swung his hands clear. “It wasn’t me!’ he asserted swiftly, ‘I haven’t touched anything since I put the volume up again!”

“Is this a malfunction, or a deliberate obstruction on the part of Clade Commander Silandor?” Valmik demanded, once more instantly consumed with anger and suspicion. The Tec shrugged helplessly and looked towards the communications specialist, whilst deliberately rising and backing away from the console. He evidently had no more idea what had happened than his ‘Fellow Oortelians’.

Meanwhile, Coms-Spec Thraxle was once more advancing towards the stage-front: holding up a hand to request silence, as he listened to something that nobody else could hear.

“Yes... yes, I understand, Sub-Commander.’ He was evidently speaking out loud instead of sub-vocalizing, so that everyone could hear his side of the conversation: Valmik was forced to grudgingly admit the efficacy of the ploy. ‘I shall pass that along, Sir,’ he continued, nodding towards those nearest, ‘Yes, I am sure that everyone will be pleased to hear that, Sir. Will you be maintaining this link, Commander?’ Thraxle nodded at the reply - indeed, he appeared on the verge of standing to attention and saluting! But he smoothly turned the movement into a wide-armed bow towards his audience.

‘My apologies. I have just been in communication with Sub-Commander Talamane, speaking on behalf of the Clade Commander himself. I have some news that will interest all of you. If I may be permitted to speak without interruption?”

Valmik choked down his anger, and nodded acquiescence as Thraxle gazed pointedly in his direction - then belatedly realized that he had risen to his feet, ready to fight. Keeping his thoughts to himself, the Archivist First seated himself once more and folded his arms across his chest, waiting to be impressed.   

Taking his cue, Thraxle began his address. “Firstly, allow me to reassure you that the loss of feed to the Visi-Sphere is a simple technical malfunction. Indeed, there is no actual fault with the device itself - the problem appears to be at the other end. The problem seems to lay with Specialist Palasar’s visualizer itself, and by great good fortune, the Technician who knows most about this system is also aboard the Ship with Palasar. I am assured that he will have the problem sorted out in good order.”

Now addressing the Visi-Sphere operator, Thraxle continued. “Tec-Op Imanol, if you would please return to your station, I will be requiring your assistance shortly.’ The thoroughly bewildered technician did as instructed, while Thraxle announced at large, ‘Now, Fellow Oortelians, this is the news that I believe will make your forbearance and patience worthwhile! Clade Commander Silandor has already issued instructions that this alien creature, that speaks our language, is going to be made available to you for questioning! As Archivist First Valmik stated previously, this is obviously an intelligent being, and the Commander believes that it would be in everyone’s best interests for it to meet our finest minds.”

A susurration of excitement and enthusiasm rippled around the auditorium, and Valmik found himself caught up in it, even though he anticipated disappointment and deception wherever Silandor was concerned. He scrutinized this Coms-Spec carefully, and noted the theatrical timing as the man began nodding once more, listening to the ghost in his head. “Yes, Sub-Commander, thank you for the update, I shall inform our revered guests immediately, Sir! Thraxle, out.” The exultant gaze he offered was just shy of the obvious - the boy should have been an Imagineer, in Valmik’s not-so-humble opinion!

“I have just been informed that the alien is even now being brought aboard the Indigo Flame! Naturally it will have to be examined in Medi-Bay, to insure that it carries no harmful organisms, but we do not believe that this will cause too much delay. Obviously, from what we have seen ourselves, our initial contact team suffered no ill effects. May I suggest that, in the meantime, we review the recordings made of that first meeting? As I am sure you are aware, none of us really studied those events, er… dispassionately… as they were occurring. Tec-Op Imanol, please replay the encounter from the point at which the creature first appeared. I assure you that your systems are functional.” The Visi-Sphere operator busied himself about his console, and events that had already transpired once more bloomed within its globe.

As the view moved towards the giant doorway, the huge portal whisked open.

Now framed in the visualizer was a small… creature. Although it’s lower half was partially obscured by the lower lip of the door-seal, it was clearly Oortelianoid - two arms, two legs, one head. But there the resemblance ended. Those parts of its anatomy not concealed by protective clothing were an unpleasant pinkish-white color, and there was a thatch of dark fur on the top of its head…

 

It all happened very fast.

Jamie was struggling against the urge to do something - anything - when there was a sudden blur of motion, and Zoe shrieked in surprise. Jamie hadn’t even coherently registered what he had seen, as he instinctively started towards her, but he was stopped almost immediately by a vice-like grip clamped onto his shoulders. He began struggling instantly, inspired by pure animal reflex. He had no idea what he was fighting against, but he thrashed about wildly anyway. He felt no concern for his own personal safety: he was driven only by the over-riding imperative to protect Zoe, from whatever was attacking them! His violent struggles had an unexpected effect.

Suddenly, whatever had hold of him crashed down onto his back, but did not release its grip. Even though he was a fairly hefty chap, this unexpected weight-load knocked him forward. He would have fallen to the ground, had he not collided with another figure that seemed to appear out of nowhere. His head felt like he had just butted a brick wall, and the unknown assailant behind him used his momentary grogginess to re-affirm its grip.

As Jamie shook his head to clear the fog that threatened to envelope him, he felt it being forced back until he could see the silhouette of the man before him. But it wasn’t a man. Jamie had met many unusual aliens in his travels with the Doctor, however, most of them distinctly unfriendly, so he was not unduly thrown by the creature’s appearance.

“What kind o’ Sassenach's are ye’ to attack a man from behind?’ he roared, spittle flying into the apparitions face, ‘we’ve done ye’ no’ harm!” His unrelenting struggles against whatever held him served no purpose, so he relaxed in its grip, conserving his strength for a time when it may prove more useful. He wanted to look over to the other side of the corridor, but was unable to move his head. ‘If you’ve hurt Zoe...!” he started to say, but found himself trailing off into silence, as he truly registered what he was seeing for the first time. It was a lizard. Not that he knew much about lizards - but some deep core memory insisted that the creature he was facing was reptilian.

It had cold eyes that expressed no emotion, peculiar cross-shaped pupils set within glowing orbs, and its disturbingly human-like features were marred only by the absence of an evident nose. Instead, two slits pointed down from the below its eyes towards a mouth that reminded Jamie of the Ice Warriors he had met; but this impression was only momentary. He found himself transfixed by the monsters eyes, as a peculiar colouration appeared to form around them, and then expand across the aliens face.

Slowly increasing in speed, waves of differing patterns of colour began to travel across his captors features, drawing him in inexorably. Jamie found himself fighting against the temptation to drift off into sleep, as the kaleidoscopic patterns dancing across his vision lulled him towards oblivion.

He felt his head slowly drooping down towards his chest, even as he fought against this strangely hypnotic effect. It was only the sudden cry of alarm, from the captor behind him, which prevented Jamie from succumbing to the reign of Morpheus. “Aaaiieeh!’ rasped a panicked voice, jolting him back into a state of semi-consciousness, ‘behind you, Atanalis! Look behind you!” Jamie felt dislocated from reality as he was released from confinement, falling heavily to the floor and smashing his face into the deck.

Fighting against the ringing in his head, he forced himself to look for Zoe, only to see her comatose form being hauled up the wall by two more lizard-men!

Galvanised by the sight, Jamie began dragging himself across the corridor towards them, oblivious to the blood dripping from his nose. When he realized that he was no longer being restrained, Jamie struggled to his knees and took a sharp look around, preparatory to regaining his feet.

He fully intended to hurl himself after Zoe, and do whatever he could to rescue her, but froze when he realized that he was now behind his own attackers - and could see what had distracted them.

The spaceman was back again, only now he had removed the helmet that had concealed his features before. Apart from being ridiculously big, he looked very human, and very angry 

And he was hurtling down the corridor towards them!


	12. Chapter 12

As the penultimate door before his intended destination slid aside before him, Null blinked in surprise, not entirely sure what he was seeing. He ceased his progress only for a fraction of a second, however. Before he even realized his own intentions, Null found himself running full tilt: consumed with a rage that had come from nowhere - a welcome sensation that went some way towards replacing the void inside.  At the far end of this section of corridor, the lighting was already on.

In fact, the general ambient lighting was just beginning to rise, although it was not yet as bright as the pocket by that door.

All this registered only peripherally though - Null’s attention (and unreasoning anger!) was fixed on the two groups of small creatures that he saw; scrabbling around like some unwelcome infestation of alien vermin. There were three on the floor by the door, and three more climbing up the left-hand wall, and as he drew closer he gave vent to his fury.

“What are you doing on my ship? What have you done to my ship?” He roared, hearing his own voice for the first time in some while.

His shout provoked panic, and strange chirrups that could have been speech – but were more likely just the alarm calls of unreasoning animals. He could now see that they were bipedal reptiles; and began to slow down as he realized that they wore clothing of sorts - intricate harnesses or armour. Two of the lizards on the floor had produced tiny devices from their harnesses, and were pointing them at Null. He began to feel faint impacts that failed to penetrate his suit, and something like an insect sting on the bare flesh of one hand. His anger rekindled, he scattered them with an undirected swing of a booted foot.

He began to step closer, intending to finish them off, when he caught a movement in the corner of his eye. The creatures that had been climbing up the wall were now on the ceiling, and two of them were also reaching behind for what Null assumed were weapons. The third was falling, apparently having just been released by its companions… but there was something different about it.

Suddenly he realized that it was unlike the reptiles, and reached to catch it without thinking. It landed fairly gently across the palm of his hand - thanks to the speed of his reaction - and he was about to make a closer examination when pin-prick stings began peppering his head.

And they hurt!

Of course, these two lizards were attacking from much closer, from just above his head. Null gently closed his fingers around the torso of the creature he had saved from falling, holding it behind himself for safety. Then he savagely swatted at the reptilian irritants above him. His aim was horrifically accurate: one of the creatures was flung against the far bulkhead, its head instantly crushed by the impact.

Its fall to the floor was mirrored by the other lizard, which he had merely dislodged from the ceiling. Not content with this, Null caught it in mid-air with a back-hand swipe: one of such stunning force that the corpse flew halfway down the corridor, its spine shattered.

As he turned to watch, Null noticed that a ceiling hatch was partially open. Assuming that this was where these pests had come from, he slid it closed angrily, then keyed a lock code into the pad to over-ride the manual release. It would only be a temporary deterrent, but he didn’t have time to deal with any more vermin at the moment. The pad on his right wrist had just begun vibrating against his skin, and his rapid visual check confirmed that an alert panel was flashing urgently.

The doll-like figure he held in that hand… Was the source of the bio-trace that had triggered his awakening?

This information was more important than anything else, but Null wanted to check on the other intruders for his own peace of mind.

The two he had swept aside were crawling about woozily. He carefully stepped on each one to put them down as painlessly as he could, then turned to look at the survivor. It was hauling itself up to its feet: Null was startled to note that it bore a strong resemblance to a real person, but in miniature. He was even more astonished when it ran towards him yelling, “Leave Zoe alone, ye’ great hairy Beastie!”

Null, who was totally bald, found this almost as perplexing as the fact that he could understand the tiny man’s words, but had little time to ponder this. The miniature being’s swift passage triggered the door, and it slid aside to reveal more of the lizard creatures (people?) These ones merely stood stock still, as they gazed up at him in awe. Suddenly a few of them began reaching over their shoulders and assuming aggressive stances, but the one closest to their side of the door raised an arm, and emitted an authoritative sounding string of cheeps and chirps. Perhaps it was language after all, for they all subsided - albeit with apparent reluctance.

Feeling a tugging on one of the legs of his suit, Null looked down, and was amused to see the little man attempting to climb his leg - he had made it to the knee already! Null reached down and detached the thrashing assailant, then, as gently as he could, threw him towards the lizards. He was becoming impatient with all these distractions and puzzles, but also suspected that he may have been a little hasty in his assumptions. He pointed at the lizard that appeared to be in charge and said, “You are not welcome on this ship. I have something to attend to, so I will allow you this opportunity to leave peacefully. If you are still here when I return, you will be destroyed.”

Without waiting for a response, he cradled ‘Zoe’ against his chest and turned away. He did not believe that they would be foolish enough to follow him.

Not when they saw the remains of their comrades.

 

Clade Commander Silandor had selected just four visual feeds to display on his personal multi-view screen, a choice made much simpler by the fact that most of the Ghost Patrol had not actually been issued with visi-com units. (A relatively new development, they were not yet in abundant supply.) At the top left, Specialist Palasar had been continuing to narrate her observations, unaware that she was no longer being watched by the enclaves.

Since Thadokta’s departure, her view had mostly been focused on other team members, as they discussed their options. Silandor suspected that much more was being conveyed by hand-signals outside the range of her visi-com - it’s what he would have done in similar circumstances.

To the right of this was an overall view of the team, captured by a trooper instructed to patrol the walls and ceiling, whilst the lower screens showed events as witnessed by the two Tec’s.  One was merely a back-up, as the woman, Choltz, appeared to be sticking very close to Palasar; an observation confirmed by Mech-Tec Enteberol’s viewpoint. His screen was more like a docudrama - the focus followed Palasar’s activities at a slight remove - in fact, the Specialist had even started to address him directly, much like a roving news reporter.

(Clever girl, the commander noted to himself: she was obviously thinking on her feet. He had no doubt that the Tec was obeying covert orders from the Specialist. Pity her performance might never reach a wider audience.)

“Well’, she was now saying, her voice coming from the main speakers only, ‘I think the best thing we can do is find Thadokta’s friends, as I promised. They are probably getting a bit concerned about him by now!” Silandor watched the same scene, playing out from four different angles, as the team once more returned to the giant portal. (He idly wondered where Faramandar had managed to conceal himself and his patrol.) His attention was abruptly drawn to Palasar’s original view as, before she could reach the sensor trigger, the massive door itself slid aside once more. Unable to believe what he was seeing, Silandor stood up from his throne and gawped at the main view-screen.

Silence fell across the entire command hub in that instant - even the omnipresent sounds of smoothly functioning systems seemed to fade into insignificance: perhaps the Flame herself felt intimidated by the impossibility now filling the view-screen!

Silandor had never truly believed in the myth of The Ancients, had always followed the more pragmatic view of the military. (If that myth encouraged investment in expansion to the stars, it should be encouraged.) The speculations and theories, inspired by archeological ‘evidence’, had varied widely over the generations, but always proved to be a useful source of funding for the development of the fleet.

The Clade Commander had not been too concerned when he found himself tasked with this mission: complacently convinced that - if anything - they would only find evidence of another space-faring species. (In itself a shock, and well worth investigating, he considered.) However, Silandor could not deny the evidence of his own eyes.

This monstrosity before him could only be an Ancient, but its face!

Its face was wrong!

“First! Command your troops to stand down! Safe all weapons immediately! On no account is anyone to fire!”

Specialist Third Palasar’s disembodied orders were like a dash of cold water for Silandor, enabling him to reign in his horror and re-assert his objectivity. The massive bipedal figure seemed to lose interest in him for a moment, reaching down for something off-screen. The view panned down to follow, first passing a limp figure clutched in one huge hand, then revealing a small Oortelianoid clambering up the monster’s leg. This insanely brave creature - probably one of Thadokta’s friends - was hopelessly outmatched! Despite its struggles, it was easily dealt with by the… by the Ancient, which then seemed to talk directly to Silandor for a while, although its booming words were totally incomprehensible.

It was only when the view went chaotic that Silandor recalled his actual whereabouts. Cursing himself for getting so completely drawn in, he quickly transferred his personal multi-view to the main screen. Palasar’s screen still showed a turbulent swirl of flooring, walls, and ceiling; which was explained by Enteberol’s view. Thadokta’s friend (what else could it be?) was struggling with the Specialist, as she attempted to restrain it. Beyond them, Tec-Op Choltz appeared to be frozen solid, and she was not alone in that state. The roof-crawler view of the patrol trooper revealed that most were similarly immobilized, by disbelief or shock.

Only the patrol’s First was moving, as he went to Palasar’s assistance.

From above Silandor saw the First reach the struggling pair just as the alien shouted, “Let go of me, ye’ Sassenach monster! I have to be getting after Zoe!”

From the side, he watched as his officer reached down and grabbed it by the shoulders, trying to wrench it away from Palasar. However, the Specialist had a firm grip on the alien, and such was the First’s steel-cord strength that she too was lifted upright. Once Palasar regained her footing, she released her hold, stepping away from the First and his struggling captive.

Her screen now displayed a close-up view of the creature’s frantic - but futile - attempts to break loose. Blood coated its mouth-parts, and was beginning to stain the clothing it wore.

“Oh my word!’ came a startled cry from behind Silandor’s command throne, ‘Jamie! What are you doing to Jamie?”

 

Everything was happening with bewildering rapidity: a concatenation of impossibilities and contradictions that should have sent Palasar spiraling into mind-death, but strangely didn’t. Instead, she felt an almost detached calm.

She was coping with a reality so far beyond the reach of the most creative imagineer, that the only way to deal with it was… to accept it. This derelict, this dead ship drifting in the void, was supposed to be just that – dead!

Nobody, not even Palasar in her most childish fantasies, had really expected to find a living Ancient on board, but then they met one and it was not… It was not what she had expected. It had talked to her, in a voice that vibrated her tympanic membranes painfully - but the words were random gibberish. As she watched in atavistic awe, the giant had plucked another strange creature off its leg and thrown it in her direction. Unable to take her eyes off the Ancient, as it turned its back on her and began walking away, she was taken by surprise when she was suddenly driven to the floor.

When Palasar got her first good look at her attacker, she realized three things in an almost instantaneous blast of intuition. Firstly, it wasn’t attacking her, but desperately attempting to get away. Secondly, it could only be one of the ‘friends’ that Thadokta had been so worried about. Finally, it appeared to be almost pathologically intent on racing after the giant Ancient, and she could not allow that. Palasar clamped her arms around it and held on grimly - it was larger than her but did not have the strength of an Oortelian - and awaited the assistance she was sure would soon be forthcoming.

It suddenly yelled, “Let go of me, ye’ Sassenach monster! I have to be getting after Zoe!” just before they were both lifted off the ground. She stepped back to get a better look at it - it was the same as Thadokta, she was sure - yet its face was smoother, its behavior more violent. Still, it too spoke Oortelian…

Palasar could taste fear, panic, and fury in the air - all radiating from the creature in waves. She began to speak, trying to project reassurance. “Please calm down, we mean you no harm, but if you continue to struggle against my First, you may hurt yourself. What is your name? Are you Thadokta’s friend?”

“Oh aye?’ said the new alien, confusing Palasar momentarily, ‘is that why your friends back there attacked Zoe and me? Because ye’ mean us no harm?”

Palasar shot an enquiring look at First, to see if he understood what it was talking about. He shook his head in a sharp negative, apparently as mystified as she was.

“We have not attacked you.’ Palasar stated firmly, ‘If you are talking about the… the being you were attempting to fight, we have nothing to do with it. In fact, we have never seen it before.”

“Eh? That giant space pilot? I dinnae mean him! I’m talking about the others like you, the other lizard-men back through that door!”

It… No, he, Palasar decided - definitely a ‘he’ - looked completely sincere in his words (as far as she could tell,) but how could what he was saying be true? “You must be mistaken…

‘Please, it really would help if you could tell me your name?’ She listened to his sullen reply then, stumbling a little over his odd pronunciation, repeated. ‘You must be mistaken, Jamimikron, we are the only Oortelians on this vessel. We are an exploratory team - we only boarded recently.”

“Jamimikron speaks the truth, Palasar.” The voice was so devoid of expression, of life, that it took Palasar a moment to recognize it as that of Tec-Op Choltz. Glancing over in irritation, she saw that the young woman was still gazing through the door, standing close enough for the proximity sensors to prevent it from closing. Pale waves of horror were rippling across her face, even though the Ancient was now gone. Palasar was about to go across to her to ask what she was talking about, when Jamimikron suddenly spoke out again.

“Hey! Wait a minute! Did ye’ say something about the Doctor just now? I didnae realise earlier, I didnae ken your accent… He should be here!” The alien had settled down in First’s grip, obviously realising that his efforts were achieving nothing, but now he was looking about wildly. “Doctor!’ he shouted, than looked back to Palasar, ‘What have ye’ done with him? Where is he?”

Ignoring Choltz for the moment, Palasar quickly replied. “Yes, Jamimikron, we know Thadokta! He is safe, I promise you - he has gone to see Clade Commander Silandor aboard our own ship. We will take you to him if you wish, although he did say that he had two friends with him. Would the other be this ‘Zo-Eee’ you are so worried about?” She signed for First to release Jamimikron from his brutal grip.

“Aye,’ he replied, nodding as he tried to rub some feeling back into his shoulders, ‘and I still need to be getting after her, if the Doctor is no’ in any trouble!”

He paused nervously, as First slinked around him, leaning down to speak quietly into what appeared to be an auditory organ. “For your information, Jamimikron,’ the officer hissed aggressively, ‘we are Oortelians, not ‘lizard-men’ - and Specialist Palasar is a female.”

To Palasar’s fascination, Jamimikron’s face changed color!

It became slightly pinker.

As First came to stand beside her, Jamimikron glanced nervously between them, then asked her incredulously. “You’re a lassy?’ (Palasar got the impression that he was unable to quite believe it.) ‘But…

‘But ye’ havnae got any…

‘Er, I mean…”

As he trailed off his coloration morphed even further into a deep red hue, He seemed very uncomfortable.

Palasar wasn’t particularly comfortable herself. She had concluded that aliens like Thadokta conveyed their emotions by distorting the folds on their faces. This was the first hint that they might also communicate like real people, as well. She sincerely hoped that his coloration meant something different in his species, and it was no little relief when he eventually spoke again.

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss! I wouldnae have fought so, if I’d known ye’ were a lass… I hope I didnae hurt ye’?” Palasar found this thought mildly amusing, and was about to reassure him when an urgent shout from Tec-Op Choltz interrupted her.

“Specialist Palasar! You really need to see this!”

Palasar moved over to join Choltz, noting that Jamimikron stepped aside to allow the First to shadow her, then silently slipped in behind him. Beyond the open doorway, she saw two crumpled figures - not too distant - with a third still form visible much further up the corridor. They were recognizably Oortelians, despite their gruesome injuries.

They were obviously dead.

While a creeping feeling of numbness enveloped her, Palasar watched as First leapt nimbly into the next section of corridor. He obviously intended to rush to examine the bodies, but then stopped short abruptly, looking to his side.

He beckoned Palasar to join him.

When she arrived beside him she felt sick at heart, approaching the fourth corpse reluctantly. It was clearly a Trooper, but the damage to the head was so extensive that she could say little more than that. Barely aware of Jamimikron scrambling over the door-seal to join them, Palasar took refuge in ice-cold anger as she addressed the First. “Can you explain the presence of these soldiers, First? Did you ignore orders and deploy an advance patrol?”

“I cannot, Specialist.’ He was shaking his head in bewilderment, ‘And I did not. My patrol are all present and accounted for. I was not informed that there would be any ghost patrol presence other than ourselves. Presumably I did not need to know.’

His voice had grown quieter as he spoke, and he was visibly trembling with anger. ‘Specialist Palasar, nothing on this derelict is as we were told. As we were lead to believe…

‘I strongly recommend a return to the Indigo Flame, so that we can find out what the Clade Commander’s instructions are - in light of the circumstances.”

“Aye, that would probably be a good idea - considering that the big man told you to get off his ship! Did ye no’ hear him?” Jamimikron’s interjected comment took Palasar by surprise, and she whirled to face him.

“We all heard the Ancient speak, Jamimikron, but its words were meaningless - are you saying that you understood it? What did it say, exactly?” She asked him urgently.

He seemed a little startled and took a step back, but replied indignantly, “I ken what he said right enough! …Though I couldnae give it to ye’ word for word. Like I just told you, he wants you off his ship.’

He glanced around at the scattered bodies once more, then sighed and looked back towards Palasar.

‘I dinnae think you want to end up like these poor laddies now, do you?”


	13. Chapter 13

The Doctor was feeling distinctly flustered (and not a little out of puff!) by the end of his whirlwind dash through the lizard-alien’s vessel.

Ever since being brought aboard, he had been rushed through a bewildering array of airlocks: followed by almost organically designed passageways and junctures, with circular doorways that spiraled open in a most unexpected fashion. His reptilian escorts were politely uncommunicative for the most part, completely ignoring his increasingly worried questions. They did, however, appear to be most concerned for his welfare, taking great care not to harm him - for which he was profoundly grateful! (These people were considerably stronger than they looked - and the Doctor had thought that they looked rather strong in the first place!)

He was fairy convinced that his feet hadn’t actually touched the deck of the ship for much of the journey. It was only when he was ushered into a small enclosed chamber, and he was finally settled down onto its floor, that one of the soldiers spoke to him. “We now take this rapid transit pod to the command hub, Thadokta,’ it said, ‘where you shall meet with Clade Commander Silandor.”

The other trooper had tapped a pad that caused the entryway to iris closed, then selected the destination… just as the Doctor had begun to reply. “Indeed. Most kind. I’m so glad that we’re talking again. Perhaps you could tell me - Oh my goodness!”

The Doctor would have fallen flat on his back at the sudden violent upwards motion, but his two guides had each held him steady. Evidently they were totally unfazed by the ‘pods’ speed, unlike the Doctor. “Well, I can see why you call it ‘rapid transit’ now! Is it really necessary to go this fast? I mean - just how big is your ship?”

“Apologies for the haste, Thadokta,’ said the larger soldier, suddenly loquacious, ‘your presence needs to be known to as few as possible. In answer to your question, the Indigo Flame is the largest vessel in the fleet! Normally it is not necessary to go this fast, but we were ordered to get you to the Clade Commander - unseen - without delay.” By the way that the pod was already beginning to slow, the Doctor assumed that this objective was about to be achieved. Sure enough, another of those ubiquitous portals irised open on the opposite side from the entrance. At the gentle insistence of his smaller escort, the Doctor stepped out into a brightly lit command center.

It was clearly a highly sophisticated starship bridge, even though the Doctor had surmised that this ‘Command Hub’ was located at the very center of the vessel. He had only a brief impression of the place, however - his attention immediately focusing on the huge screen that dominated the front of the room. The display was quartered, and in one section he was startled to recognize Jamie’s bloodied face. “Oh my word!’ he cried out in alarm, ‘Jamie! What have you done to Jamie?”

Before he had even finished speaking, the Doctor was racing to the front, where a railing overlooked a lower level of crewed workstations. He hardly even noticed the alien standing at a station beside him: was only aware of his friend on the screen as he gripped the rail. “Jamie! Can you hear me? What is happening over there?” He shouted desperately.

“I’m afraid he cannot hear you, Thadokta. We have only been able to establish a one-way link to the Ship of The Ancients.” The voice almost made the Doctor jump, so wrapped up was he in his concern for his companion. He turned to the speaker, a most impressive example of these reptilian aliens.

“That seems a little slip-shod, I must say!’ He snapped irritably. ‘This is clearly a very advanced craft - surely your technology can run to a better communications system than that?”

“There are… complications…”

The Doctor interrupted in agitation. “Never mind, never mind all that!” But then he forced himself to relax somewhat and, rubbing his hands together nervously, continued in a more conciliatory tone. “Please, forgive me, but I’m sure that you can understand my concern. Why is my friend being mistreated, and where is Zoe? I can’t see her on any of those screens!’ He studied the figure before him, but received no reply, so added. ‘I take it that you are the Clade Commander?”

“No,’ came a quiet but powerful voice from behind him, ‘that would be me.’ The Doctor turned around to see an even more intimidating looking alien. It was standing before an impressive looking seat on a raised dais, but the Doctor realized that the Commander would have towered over him anyway, even if they were standing on the same level. He was reminded of the Ice Warrior, Varga, in terms of bulk: but in this instance composed of sheer muscle, rather than armor. “You are welcome here, Thadokta, but I would prefer to deal with your questions myself. I am Clade Commander Silandor, you are now aboard the Indigo Flame, flagship of the space fleet of the Oortelian Hegemony.”

Silandor indicated the alien - the Oortelian - that the Doctor had been talking to. “Sub-Commander Talamane is my second-in-command, she will assume control of the Hub while we talk in private. Please join me up here, Thadokta.”

On hearing that this Talamane was a female, the Doctor almost did a double-take, (she was easily a head taller than himself;) but he managed to turn it into a courtly bow - just in time remembering not to smile. She merely blinked her peculiar eyes at him, then returned to whatever she had been doing at her work station. The Doctor was unsure what to make of this, but his desire for answers was unabated, so he hurried over to the Commander. “If we are to be friends,’ he said as he gingerly stepped up onto the dais, ‘and I do hope that we are, then my name is actually just… Doctor.”

“Dokta?”

“Close enough! And if it is not against your rules or traditions, would it be permissible for me to address you by name? Clade Commander Silandor could become a bit of a mouthful, I fear!” The Doctor was finding it difficult to restrain his natural bonhomie, but was careful to keep his face as still as he could. As he came to stand before Silandor, he found himself eye-to-eye with the Oortelian - even though the fellow was now sitting down! At his invitation, the Doctor went to stand to the side of the Commander’s seat, while the Oortelian made some adjustments to a panel mounted on a swing-arm before him.

“Indeed, Dokta, we are in agreement. You shall call me Silandor, but only whilst inside my privacy field, if you don’t mind.’ The Doctor - who had inevitably found his attention drawn back to the wall-mounted screen - was about to ask what Silandor meant, when everything around the Command podium became blurred. ‘Before you ask, Dokta, we are now able to converse without disturbing my crew. I don’t usually operate the interference mode, but I find it necessary on this occasion, as I require your undivided attention. Would you like me to tell you about your companions first?”

“Oh! Yes, please, I would like that very much!”

“Then it shall be so,’ confirmed Silandor, tapping his currently blank personal screen with a decisive claw. ‘I can show you a replay of all that has transpired since you left the other ship, but I would rather give you a brief summary first, so that we can move on to my own questions. You claim to have seen a giant being over there?”

“Yes, indeed. He very nearly stepped on us!”

“Hmm… It came back. My team were just on the way to collect your companions, when they encountered it. Your friend on the screen was not being attacked by my people, I assure you - but he was being restrained. When we first saw him he was attempting to assault The Ancient - I shall explain that term later - but it tossed him aside: evidently the Ancient has taken your other companion, and he had to be prevented from pursuing it.”

“Ah… yes. That does sound like Jamie - a very head-strong young man… er… Did you actually see Zoe?”

Silandor paused before answering Thadokta’s question, his tongue snaking out rapidly. Once. Twice. “I saw something, Dokta, but I cannot honestly say I was entirely… focused on the matter at the time. I must assume that it was your Zoee that the Ancient took away, but when I explain more you will understand, perhaps, my inattention. But that must wait. You say that the Ancient almost stepped on you - did you see its face?”

“Er, no, as a matter of fact we didn’t, he was wearing a full-face helmet - does it matter?” The Doctor was confused by the question, and was still trying to work out its significance, when Silandor abruptly changed the subject.

“We Oortelians have always believed that, apart from the legendary Ancients, we were the only intelligent life in the Universe. Evidently this is not the case. Please tell me what you were doing on that ship, and what your connection is to the Ancients.”

“I have never heard of these ‘Ancients’ before today, I can assure you! If you were watching when I told Specialist Palasar what happened, you will already know that we arrived on that ship totally by accident!” replied the Doctor indignantly. (Why did everyone he met in his travels always assume that he was responsible for… whatever predicament he had so innocently stumbled into?)

Silandor regarded him with glacial calm, then said softly, “Details, please.”

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably, then, as he unconsciously rubbed his chin, admitted. “That is rather a difficult request, Silandor. To be honest, I’m still not entirely sure exactly what happened. We were traveling in the… in my ship, when we suddenly encountered some, um… turbulence. Extremely violent turbulence at that! The situation was pretty desperate for a while, I don’t mind telling you! Well, somehow we managed to, er… land, but we didn’t have any idea where we were. Or how we got there…

‘That is the truth, Silandor, I assure you.”

The Oortelian Commander regarded him with unreadable eyes, then slowly blinked his nictitating membranes - a slightly unnerving display of control over what should have been an involuntary reflex. “Accepted as told.’ Silandor said, almost too quietly for the Doctor to hear. Then the Commander shifted uncomfortably in his seat, appearing to look inward for a moment, before saying, “Tell me, Dokta… This may seem like an odd notion to you - but does your ship travel in time?”

To say that the Doctor was startled by this question out of nowhere would be the mother of all understatements! He gawped at the Oortelian in astonishment before managing to school his features, cautiously asking, “Time travel? Whatever gives you that idea?”

“Just an idle thought, Dokta,’ the Commander answered, with a casually dismissive wave of his hand, ‘there are anomalies involved here that you may be unaware of. However, I become increasingly convinced that you may be able to help me find the answers - I don’t really know why.”

He sat up decisively and clamped a comradely hand on the Doctor’s shoulder. (The Doctor manfully managed not to wince or stagger.) “It is decided!’ Silandor proclaimed, ‘I shall now provide the promised explanation of our situation.”

Still worried about what may even now be happening aboard the other ship, the Doctor protested strongly. “Do we have time for this, Silandor? What about my friends? What about my ship? I want to go back and help them… Now!”

Suddenly, Silandor was every inch the Clade Commander once more. His grip tightened on the Doctor’s shoulder and he drew him closer. Eye to alien eye, the Doctor strained to hear the Oortelian’s words. “I tell you this, Dokta. You live or die at my command…

‘But I do not wish to deprive myself of a potentially valuable ally. Know that I trust my subordinates to handle matters while I tell my story, and that I believe that you need to know what I am about to tell you.

‘It is not just your friends who may be at risk here, Dokta, but the beliefs of the entire Oortelian Hegemony could be threatened!”

 

“We Oortelians,’ Silandor began, ‘have been a star-faring people for many generations; but it is unlikely that we would have left our own solar system without certain… incentives. Or inspiration, if you prefer. Originally, simple curiosity drove us, as a species, to explore. Then overpopulation and dwindling resources led to the exploitation and colonisation of our own solar system. But there was no particular drive to expand further. Not for many generations.

Then, quite by accident, something astonishing was discovered on Indigo - the most Oortelia-like of the other planets. Fossil evidence that suggested a previous culture very different from our own; a radically different species, in fact. Forgive me if I gloss over much of the details, Dokta, this is a condensed account for the sake of brevity. Understand that this is where the story really starts. What those earlier settlers and explorers had discovered were merely fragments, but they led to an entirely new science dedicated to their study. Over many generations, more tantalising pieces of the puzzle were reclaimed from the depths: and then, remarkably, further evidence was found on Oortelia itself!

Personally, ever since first being apprised of The Hidden Archives - the secret history of our expansion into extra-solar exploration - I have had my own suspicions about the veracity of the Oortelia findings. I find it just a little too convenient that they came to light just when they did. However… I digress: suffice to say that it is unlikely that the Oortelian Hegemony would have developed as it did, without the impetus of the Ancients. For that is how they came to be known: an Oortelianoid species of huge dimensions - as extrapolated from fossilized bone fragments.

A science that verges on Imagineering, it seems to me, but presented convincingly enough to make believers of most.

Also, there were mystifying traces of exotic materials that defied explanation: hints at technologies that were so beyond Oortelian science as to be considered sheer fantasy, much of which we still do not understand. But there-in lies the core motivation for our species’ subsequent expansion into the void between the stars. The search for further evidence of the Ancient’s.

I do not boast, Dokta, when I say that our home planet has produced some exceptional minds. All that our species needed was the suggestion of proof that these impossible technologies could be achieved, and our science was advanced exponentially. It didn’t happen overnight, of course, and there were those - many of them - that were impatient to travel to other solar systems.

Naturally, scientific probes were sent to the nearest stars as soon as we had the ability - but Fleet wanted a more ‘claws-on’ approach. More ships - starships - and operational autonomy. The scientists were always speculating about the possibility of other intelligent life-forms… ‘Out There’. Fleet took these theories seriously, and wanted to be able to respond if any such theoretical beings turned out to be… hostile. The arguments and counter-arguments had been raging for years when the Ancient fossils and artifacts were ‘discovered’ on Oortelia itself. They may well have been genuine finds, perhaps I am just too suspicious, but regardless: Fleet immediately received the permission and funding, to head for distant stars.

Over the following generations, the starships of the Fleet explored far and wide, sometimes following earlier probes, other times following the advice of the scientists and theorists of the home system. By now these had split into various enclaves, each with their own specialties and interests. We found no higher life-forms. At least, nothing that could be considered sentient; but now that we knew what to look for, evidence of the Ancients existence - though rare - was still found. This fed the enthusiasm of the enclaves, naturally, and Fleet progressed.

This was all long before my time, Dokta, but it has fallen to me, I fear, to discover the truth behind the legends that we have been raised on.”

“Ah, yes,’ commented the Doctor, trying not to show his increasing impatience, ‘well, this is all quite fascinating, Silandor, ‘but is it really the time for a history lesson?”

“Be still, Dokta,’ the Clade Commander admonished, ‘I get to the meat of the matter soon. But there are two salient points that I want your thoughts on, as you will see. So… to the present. Not long ago, in relative terms, a message was finally received from one of our most venerable probes - it had been written off as lost, as a matter of fact. Once the telemetry had been examined and verified by the enclaves - and Fleet Intelligence - the Indigo Flame was tasked with investigating the probes findings.

As it appeared to have found a spaceship of alien origin…

Well… you can imagine the furor! From our point of view, any non-Oortelian intelligence had to be investigated, as a matter of utmost priority. For the enclaves, it was much more significant. You shall meet representatives of the enclaves soon, Dokta, so I shall leave their side of things to them.

However, I ask you to consider the following before going into that meeting. Firstly, on approaching the alien ship, the Indigo Flame appeared to encounter a temporal anomaly, hence my earlier question. Even when we came within visual range, and at maximum magnification could actually see the Ship of The Ancients - all any other sensors read was a void. I should mention that, prior to this, I had taken the precaution of excluding the enclave representatives from too much real-time information.

I would prefer that you kept this to yourself, Dokta.

In short, and I still don’t understand how this is possible, there appeared to be a bubble of… no, a sphere of… influence around the alien vessel; where-in time was running at a different rate. In fact, we had to make physical contact with the craft before I was really convinced it was truly there.

We were not expecting to find anything alive on what - we had thought - was a derelict wreck. Imagine the surprise that your existence caused! So, I would have you ponder this: the crew of our initial survey pod reported that their mission lasted exactly as long as planned - yet aboard the Flame, we saw things differently. From our perspective, outside this sphere of influence, we watched them slow down as they approached the vessel. The mission actually took four times longer than it should have, yet the crew noticed nothing amiss. Given this, I have to wonder just how much real time you have actually spent aboard the Ship of The Ancients. You can see why I am inclined to suspect that your… accident may have been temporal in nature?”

“Indeed, yes,’ the Doctor agreed, nodding thoughtfully, ‘I cannot fault your logic. If that ship has, er… manipulated time in some fashion, be it deliberate or accidental - well, that could explain why we were yanked off course. But I have no more idea about the causal factors involved than yourself, Silandor, although I am willing to offer my assistance, if it helps. Um… you mentioned that there was something else that you wanted to ask me?”

“This is true, Dokta,’ Silandor agreed, ‘and this is something that I find even more puzzling. As I told you, all of our knowledge of the Ancients comes purely from fossil records. Over many years, a very convincing picture has been constructed of their physical appearance: even the minutest fragment of fossilized skull, vertebrae, or finger-bone was factored into the process. There is no reasonable cause for doubt that they were Oortelianoid bipeds of unnatural size.”

“Well, I don’t really see what your problem is then. Surely that rather large chap over there merely confirms the theories, no?” asked the Doctor.

“Unfortunately not, Dokta. You see, the Ancient looked like you.”

“Me?” The Doctor yelped in shocked alarm.

Silandor hurried to reassure him. “No, forgive me, I phrased that badly. I don’t mean you personally, Dokta, I mean it had the same facial make-up as yourself and your friend, Jaymee. There was no fur on its head, but other than that the similarities are undeniable. So, once more, I am led to wonder if there is more to your presence here than you are willing to admit. But even more importantly - I have no idea how the enclaves will react if they find out the truth behind their beliefs.”

“But… But…’ the Doctor sputtered, “I don’t understand! Surely the existence of that vessel, and the fellow on board, proves that they have been correct all along! I should imagine that they will be very pleased!”

Silandor regarded him silently for a moment, then seemed to deflate slightly. “Obviously I have failed to explain myself clearly, Dokta… please, study this.’ He waved a claw around his face, as he turned his head one way then the other for the Doctor’s scrutiny, then looked at him coldly. Leaning forward once more, he beckoned the Doctor closer, almost whispering in his ear.

‘The Ancients were supposed to look like us…”


	14. Chapter 14

The situation was so… Surreal.

Zoe no longer found herself capable of feeling any fear as she, very carefully, removed another nasty looking projectile from Null’s scalp. In truth, he actually seemed like quite a nice person - once she had overcome the initial terror of finding herself being carried along like an injured bird - confined and immobilized.

All that Zoe could now readily recall of that horrific moment of awakening, the realisation that she was being clasped in a huge hand: was a fuzzy sensation of absolute helplessness. She had never really considered herself overly prone to panic, but her instant response to that unexpected claustrophobic experience had been totally involuntary.

She had screamed at the top of her lungs.

Then Zoe had felt herself being lifted up, away from what she could now see was the space pilot’s chest: to be confronted by the smooth, clear features of the giant’s face. She had absolutely no idea how she had come to be in this predicament. She stared with the fascinated paralysis of an animal trapped in a vehicles headlights, her voice silenced by shock. Had he been a more reasonable size, Zoe realized, she would have taken him as a human being without question. It was impossible to guess at his age, but his eyes - his beautiful eyes - looked so old… so sad. They were regarding her with a great deal of concern.

“Please don’t be scared,’ he had said, ‘I’m not going to hurt you, but you are a most unexpected puzzle to me. Who are you? What are you doing on my ship? Is the war over? Have you come to wake the memories?”

The barrage of questions had confused Zoe deeply, but his initial reassurances had allowed her to calm down somewhat. The trapped bird fluttering of her heart slowing down by degrees, she had squirmed slightly in his - she now realized - very gentle grip, trying to regain enough confidence to answer. It took a couple of tries before her throat co-operated.

“How… how did I get here? I don’t remember leaving my friend, Jamie!’ She paused, trying to isolate her last coherent thoughts. ‘We… we were talking about the Doctor - another friend - when suddenly there was a horrible face in front of me! It was covered in dancing colors… I couldn’t move! And now… here I am. Why are you holding me?’ Then she remembered her manners. ‘Oh! Sorry! My name is Zoe… what’s yours?”

“Call me Null,’ the giant had replied, regarding her quizzically, ‘I am the pilot of this craft, Zoe, and I really need to know where you have come from, how you got here, and why.’ He glanced behind himself and Zoe noticed small rivulets of blood just beginning to trickle down his neck. He looked back towards her thoughtfully, then offered, ‘There are other small creatures, unlike yourself, aboard as well. I will need to deal with them soon, but you are my priority for now. If you are uncomfortable being carried I can put you down - but I don’t see how you would keep up with me, and I am in a hurry.”

Null resumed walking after they had worked out a compromise.

Sitting in the sling that the pilot had made of his arm, and gripping onto the fabric of his suit, Zoe had promised to tell him what she could - if he would tell her how she came to be with him in the first place. The corridors they were traversing looked very different from this new perspective, and the lighting had come up fully. However, these were just peripheral details for Zoe, as Null told her of his encounter with an infestation of vermin - that he was now beginning to suspect might not have been vermin after all.

How she had been comatose when he ‘rescued’ her from them; how he had dealt with them and, disturbingly, that there appeared to be more of them elsewhere in the ship.

“But what about Jamie? Did you see him? Was he attacked by those things as well? And the Doctor! Did you see the Doctor?” Zoe had interrupted at this juncture, only to receive a slightly evasive answer from the giant. Jamie - if Jamie was a feisty little mad thing wearing a skirt - had been safe enough when last he had seen him. But the pilot had been more interested in Zoe, so had left him behind with the other creatures. He had only seen more of the small bipedal lizards, as he described them, beyond the door. Zoe could not recall seeing any lizards but, on reflection, she thought that there may have been something reptilian about the organic kaleidoscope of a face that she did remember.

She was worried about the Doctor and Jamie. Obviously these lizard-men were what the Doctor had approached after passing through that door - so why wasn’t he still with them? And Jamie? Was he safe with these new aliens - or were they just animals, as Null had first thought?

Despite her urgent protestations, Null had flatly refused to go back to rescue her friends, until he had a better idea of the situation. And so Zoe had recounted her tale for him: the Tardis’ malfunction, their arrival on the flight deck… some of the Doctor’s speculations and guesswork. Null had shown particular interest in her own adventures with the master control board: he had nodded to himself as if she had confirmed something for him. Zoe had found herself distracted by another thin trickle of blood that began to creep down his forehead.

“Null?” she asked, ‘Are you aware that your head is bleeding?” Apparently he wasn’t, as he had given her a puzzled look before smoothing his other hand over his bald scalp. He had looked very surprised to find a thin smear of red across his palm, when he examined it.

“Do you want me to take a look at it for you?” Zoe found herself offering. He thought about it for a moment, before stooping down towards the floor, allowing her to hop down to the deck.

“I thought I was just getting stung, like insect bites or something… you know?’ he explained. ‘They don’t really hurt much… now.’ He took a step back away from Zoe, before getting on his hands and knees, then lowering his face to the deck, saying, ‘It’s probably nothing to worry about, Zoe.”

Feeling rather touched by the trust that he was showing her, Zoe peered closely at the top of Null’s head, until she had located six or seven small perforations in the skin; just now beginning to bleed once more. In comparison to his huge skull, they looked like grains of grit in a scuffed kneecap, but Zoe concluded that they were more than just bites. “Well, it never hurts to check, Null!’ she exclaimed with forced cheer, ‘These look like wounds inflicted by a projectile weapon to me! They may not hurt you now, but they could become infected if not seen to, I’m sure.” The huge pilot rose back up to his knees, regarding Zoe thoughtfully as she continued, “Do you have any medical facilities? I’m not trained, but I can remove a splinter as well as the next girl!”

And so he had pointed to another hatch in the ceiling and suggested that she meet him beneath it. Null was there in a few strides. By the time Zoe had caught up, the pilot had already opened the hatch cover and checked that the way was clear. With a whoop of exhilaration, Zoe had found herself rising rapidly in Null’s steady hand, as he deposited her onto the next level. After repeating this procedure once more, a little further down a depressingly similar corridor to the previous one, Null had picked her up again and walked unhurriedly to a side door. Keying the lock with his other hand, he then carried her into the room thus revealed. It didn’t look much like any medical facility Zoe had ever seen. In fact it was mostly empty, but the pilot had seemed confidant.

Now Zoe wasn’t so sure.

Null was laying patiently on the floor, the Med-Kit he had retrieved from a wall set beside him, its contents strewn around so that she could reach them. Naturally enough, most of the actual equipment provided was far too large for Zoe to handle: but, with Null’s assistance, some fairly effective Zoe-scale digging implements had been fashioned. She was getting through the task pretty well. In fact, it wasn’t like removing splinters at all - or any other kind of invasive surgery, really.

Perhaps his skin was too thick for the lizard-thing’s weapons, but none of the projectiles had gone very deep. It was more like removing ticks, or perhaps just digging out other insect parasites. What did those Earth primates - long extinct by Zoe’s time - do? Ah, yes! Grooming!

As a child, Zoe had been fascinated whenever she saw those old restored vids, showing the long lost animals of her distant home planet.  Particularly those furry bipedal creatures, so similar in appearance to actual people; that used ‘grooming’ to create bonds of friendship, or to reinforce social standing. It was proving to be quite an effective form of social bonding between herself and a certain giant space pilot, Zoe mused absently. She found herself flinching as the latest projectile finally came free; still not quite believing that, as Null claimed, it did not hurt him much.

“That’s nearly it, Null, only a couple more to go!’ Zoe exclaimed brightly, ‘could you roll your head to your right so I can reach them, please?” The pilot complied without comment, so Zoe decided to get some answers of her own as she set to work again. ‘You still haven’t told me what all that was about, you know, when we first, er… met. Something about a war, and memories? I’m afraid don’t remember any war.”

Null was quiet for a moment, then he said, “I don’t really know where to begin, Zoe. Everything is very confused, nothing is going to plan - I’m not even sure how long I was in temporal isolation before you woke me.”

“I woke you?’ Zoe asked in surprise, then frowned, adding, ‘and what’s temporal isolation?”

“Ah, now there’s another question I can’t really answer! I’m just a soldier, not a scientist!’ Null sounded almost amused, Zoe thought, but also rather sad. ‘All I can say is that it is an experimental process which, as the name suggests, is intended to isolate… whatever the field contains, from the passage of time. This ship was converted to carry a precious cargo, contained within the Vault of Memories at its core. My crew and I were the guardians of the vault. There were six of us, but I’m the only one left.”

“Oh! I’m sorry to hear that, Null,’ Zoe said sadly as she dug away at his scalp, ‘what happened to them?”

“I don’t know…

‘They were in a separate part of the ship - in fact, it was most of another ship connected to this one. It’s gone now.’ He paused as Zoe tugged out the latest projectile: she once more feared that she may have hurt him, but after a moment he continued as if nothing had happened. ‘What I don’t understand is… well, everything, I guess - if I’m to be honest. I have no way of knowing how much time has passed while I was in my chamber; it seems only a matter of moments to me. The ship appeared to be much as I had left it… until I discovered the loss of the Survival Pod, where the others had been. But if you know nothing of the war… Well… I must have travelled very far, both in time and distance.”

As Null trailed off into thought again, Zoe repeated her question about Null’s earlier comment. “What did you mean when you said that I woke you? I mean, was it me personally, or did the arrival of the Tardis set off some kind of alarm?” She was now working on the last wound in the giant’s scalp, but stopped to listen to his reply.

“Tell me,’ he asked first, ‘is this ‘Tardis’ a blue box?’ Zoe confirmed that she and her friends did, in fact, travel in a craft that fitted that description. ‘Ah… So it wasn’t Aristophanes who put it there after all. No. No… the Tardis had nothing to do with my revival, Zoe. I think that you initiated the sequence yourself, when you were clambering over my board. From your description, you must have activated the bio-scanner… and it recognized enough of a match to start the process.”

“But how is that possible?’ Zoe asked, frankly finding his assertion rather difficult to believe, ‘we are obviously not alike… we’re not even the same species! …Are we? Are you trying to tell me that you are a human… that you are from Earth?”

“Not at all, Zoe. I don’t even know what Urth is… Have you finished yet, Zoe?’

She jumped at the question, then returned to the task, complaining that he still hadn’t answered her own question.

Null continued. ‘As I told you before, Zoe, I am not a scientist, but I have been giving this some thought as you have tended to me. Your bio-trace is a close match to that stored in the recognition system, even closer than was allowed for, actually. I can only guess that the Progenitors - the ones who created my people - must have had some connection to your people in the distant past. That seems to be the only possible explanation, but I cannot account for your size. You are much smaller even than them.”

“Wait a minute. Did you just say that you were ‘created’? Oh! That’s the last one! Null, you can get up now!’ Zoe flung the projectile away, followed by her makeshift tool, gazing ruefully at her bloodied hands. Although Null’s wounds were very small, they had bled copiously. She suddenly realized that Null had not answered her, so tried again. ‘I mean, it didn’t sound like you were talking about a… a supreme being, or referring to a creation myth, or anything like that.”

“You are correct, Zoe,’ he replied eventually, ‘I am the end product of genetic experimentation and manipulation. My kind were created to fight in a war, each new batch larger than the previous one. I can remember when there were so very many of us…”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!’ Zoe protested, interrupting him indignantly, ‘Why would anyone need to make giants? I’m sorry, Null, I don’t mean to be insensitive - but… Well, where I come from only animals have been known to grow to such a massive size. An intelligent species doesn’t need to be so big! In fact, I should have thought it would actually be a disadvantage in many ways. I mean, look at your ship! The resources that went into constructing it, the power it must use, I just can’t imagine it! …And what do you eat? How do you feed such a huge body?

‘Um… no offence.”

Whilst Zoe had been talking, Null had rolled over onto his stomach so that he could see her better. Now he regarded her placidly and, to her surprise, smiled at her. “None taken, Zoe, although I prefer not to discuss my dietary requirements for the moment. In fact, I think we have been here too long already.” He began rummaging amongst the scattered contents of the Med-Kit until he found what he was looking for. At his request, Zoe held out her soiled hands as he broke open a vial of water for her. She rubbed them together vigorously as he poured, cleaning away the blood, and smiled her thanks.

As Null used the remaining water on a cloth to scrub his head, Zoe dried her hands as best she could on her coveralls, then said. “I’m sorry, Null, you must think me terribly rude! I’m not really the one you should be talking to. The Doctor - the friend that I mentioned before - now, he would be able to come up with some helpful ideas, I’m sure!’ Null, by now back to his knees, began rubbing some kind of cream into his scalp. As he was looking at her thoughtfully, Zoe rushed on quickly. ‘If we go back to where you left Jamie, I expect we would find the Doctor nearby - he must have been with those lizard-people somewhere! I honestly think he could help you… at least, I know he would try!”

“Maybe so, Zoe, maybe so. I shall indeed have to deal with those creatures eventually, but…’ He held up a hand to forestall any protest, ‘not just yet. First there is something that I want to show you.” Null leant down again and placed his arm on the deck before her.

Resignedly, Zoe climbed back up and made herself as comfortable as she could, gripping tightly to his sleeve as he stood.


	15. Chapter 15

Jamie looked glumly at the small rectangular briquette nestled in the palm of his hand, sighing a long-suffering sigh. As he began tentatively peeling back the silvery, crinkly wrapping, he philosophically mused that he shouldn’t really be hungry anyway. Although he had not personally had to take part in the gruesome task of collecting the dead - thankfully their fellow troopers were dealing with that - Jamie thought that he would never become accustomed to witnessing violent death.

At least, he hoped he wouldn’t.

They may not have been Clansmen, they may have looked like lizards, and they may have been attacking him: but the blood was just as red here as it had been at Culloden. He hadn’t been aware that he was bleeding himself, until that Palasar lassy had taken him away from the carnage to clean him up.

She had led him back into the other section of corridor, and bade him sit by a pile of equipment, most of it pretty incomprehensible to Jamie. While she sorted through the pile in search of something to treat him with, he surreptitiously studied her, comparing her to other ‘Oortelians’ in this section. Those not actively engaged in recovering the bodies had been very still and quiet. They had looked, Jamie thought, as if a rug had been pulled out from under their feet, only to reveal that they were standing over a bottomless chasm. He honestly couldn’t tell them apart other than by size.

Palasar had found what she wanted and set about cleaning the blood from Jamie’s face. It was only when the strange fabric contacted his face that he realized that his nose was throbbing quite painfully. This was lessened considerably when, after instructing him to close his eyes, Palasar had squirted him with something that hissed and spread a cool moistness over his face. He had thanked her immediately on opening his eyes again, but found himself unaccountably relieved to see her return an oddly shaped instrument to her bag.

And then he had decided to throw caution to the wind.

“Can I ask you a question, Palasar?”

“Of course, Jamimikron, I too have many questions. You may go first!”

“Actually, you can just call me Jamie - if ye’ like…”

“Jay-Mee?” She had asked cautiously. It sounded nice, the way she said his name, slightly odd and musical. Jamie couldn’t help but smile as he agreed, so was startled when she had reared back a little, pale green lines flashing briefly across her face. “Did I say it wrong, Jamimikron? Have I upset you?’ He was just about to reassure her when she relaxed once more, saying, ‘Oh! I forgot! Thadokta told me that your people ‘smile’ when you want to be friendly! Um… Amongst my people the baring of ones teeth is a sign of anger or aggression, Jay-Mee. You may want to remember that. Now, what was your question?”

Jamie had originally intended to ask Palasar if Oortelians told each other apart by size, as he was unable to tell the men from the women himself. On consideration, he decided that he had made enough of a fool of himself already, so grasped at the first thing he saw. “Well, if it isnae rude to ask - why are you wearing that funny helmet? I notice that only a few of your people have them, er…” He trailed off as a bewildering pattern of colors once again chased around her face, and she snatched the helmet off.

After saying something that must have confused the Tardis’ magic - it sounded like ‘Cheepychirpchorp!’ - Palasar had placed the helmet carefully on the deck. Jamie had the uncomfortable impression that she was expecting it to explode at any moment. “Forgive my language, Jay-Mee, I had totally forgotten that I was wearing that thing! I think it would be best if I just put it aside for the moment.

‘Are you hungry, Jay-Mee?”

The change of subject had startled the young Scot, who was still eyeing the dangerous headgear suspiciously, but he had been surprised to realize that he was actually quite peckish! His untouched ‘Haggis’ was probably still lying in the dispensing slot of the Tardis’ food machine. Swiftly a spare ‘ration’ had been located in the bag, and Palasar had tossed it to him saying. “I will be back shortly, Jay-Mee, I need to consult with my First now.”

So Jamie finished unwrapping the ration and took a cautious sniff. One eyebrow raised in surprise, he took a tentative bite, and then, as the flavor hit his tongue, began chewing enthusiastically. “Hey!’ he cried, to no-one in particular, ‘this tastes like chocolate!”

 

After the hatch slammed shut beneath him, Faramandar had tried to puzzle out just what he had just seen and heard.

Due to his angle of view, the Ghost First had naturally lost sight of his troopers, until they had approached the aliens below. The operation had appeared to be going smoothly, even with one of the targets struggling, until Atanalis and Ixtapol had abandoned it. They appeared to have been distracted by something out of Faramandar’s line of sight.

Suddenly, they had both leapt towards whatever they had seen, apparently panic-stricken!

Both troopers were shouting out for instructions but, even though they were now almost beneath his vantage point, Faramandar had trouble understanding them. It wasn’t just the distance, he just didn’t believe what he was hearing! Then a loud burst of incomprehensible gibberish had nearly deafened him: his troopers drew their weapons and began firing into the air, and something huge had blurred past, obscuring the view. Having reared back in surprise, Faramandar was unable to make out much more than a flurry of massive movement, accompanied by the sound of more weapons fire.

He had just started to move back, intending to actually lean out through the hatch for a better view, when it had closed violently.

Trying not to dwell on how narrowly he had just avoided parting company with his head, Ghost First Faramandar looked around at his patrol. Exetrallus had come to stand nearby, waiting patiently for him to speak, so he held up his hand in a ‘wait’ signal. The rest of his troopers were also waiting on him, as they should be, but he continued to mull over Ixtapol’s words. Had she really said ‘giant monster’, or was he losing his mind?

As everyone waited quietly for their patrol leader to lead, he knelt down again and gave the hatch’s opening mechanism an experimental twist. Even though he was above it, and could therefore bear down on it with all his weight - there was not the slightest trace of movement. He nodded to himself, and stood once more to address his troops, noticing as he did so that everything was beginning to seem unnaturally bright. “Everybody, disengage optics.’ He ordered, realizing that the ship’s own lighting level had increased. ‘This hatch is now locked. We may have to adopt a different mission profile, but before I make that decision, I need options for getting off this level.

‘Third’s, take your half-patrols and check every hatch you find for the next three sections, floor and ceiling. Decide which direction to take between yourselves. I want to know if they too have somehow been denied to us, but do not - I repeat - do not leave this level. Make it fast. Go. Now.’ As his instructions were efficiently carried out, Faramandar turned to his Second and beckoned her closer. ‘What did you hear, Exetrallus?”

“The same as we all heard, I should imagine, Sir. A loud, strange, roar, that I could not understand - and our own trooper’s weapons being fired.”

“Hmm… I concur. I think that we can safely assume that those soldiers are dead. There is something else on this ship… something very, very big. That is really all I can tell you about it, I’m afraid.

‘For a derelict, this ship seems to be rapidly becoming overly populated… I believe that we have two options. Either we attempt to run surveillance on this ‘giant monster’, to get some idea of what it actually is…

‘I refuse to believe that it could be a surviving Ancient, so don’t even suggest that. However, this far exceeds our original mission parameters…”

“And the second option, my First?”

“We abort. Find a way back to our airlock and report to the Clade Commander for new instructions.”

“Does that not risk us being seen by the official exploration team?”

“I hardly think that is a consideration any more, Exetrallus. Either they are already dead, if that thing down there found them, or they will find the bodies of our troopers. If they are alive, we must make ourselves known to them, despite my brother’s orders. This may even turn out to be a rescue mission.”

Exetrallus nodded, but found that she had nothing to say on the matter. Instead, she asked,

“Faramandar… are you absolutely sure it wasn’t an Ancient?”

 

Not for the first time, Quetzlepod found himself grateful that he had long ago decided not to acknowledge his given name.

Most addressed, indeed knew him, only as ‘First’: closer acquaintances called him Q, as he had always stipulated. In any military situation he found his true name embarrassing, but under these circumstances, rank was much more appropriate anyway. His patrol were just finishing up the collection of the four unfamiliar troopers, treating their remains with as much respect as possible.

The soldier with the head wound, if so tame a description could be applied to such catastrophic injury, had been the messiest to deal with. The one further up the corridor had been cleaner, with very little blood loss. Apparently he had died from appalling internal injuries. It was the remaining two that were proving the most problematic.

Quetzlepod had seen similar crush damage before, many years ago.

He had been part of the emergency team tasked to recover the body of an archeologist: a victim of his own stupidity. The man had, despite the warnings of his colleagues, ventured too far underneath some artifact he was studying.

On seeing the size of the thing, Q and his squad-mates had expected to find little more than a smear of jelly.

But the Oortelian body is remarkably resilient, they had discovered.

When the lifting gear had finally removed the huge slab of rock to a safe distance, Q had found an apparently undamaged corpse. It was only as they attempted to move it that they discovered the truth. The civilian must have indeed been crushed flat, but his body had sprung back into approximate shape when the weight was removed.

But it was only an Oortelian shaped bladder-gourd of liquefied pulp, and when they had attempted to lift it away…

Q didn’t really like to think about it, but he had recognized that these two troopers were in a similar condition. He didn’t want their bodies to split open and spill their contents across the deck, so he had prevented any of his patrol from touching them.

Now those corpses were being very carefully eased over onto the survival blankets that he had ordered.

It was an unpleasant task for the troopers responsible, the Oortelianoid form was not supposed to squirm and ripple like some aquatic invertebrate. Fortunately, they treated their less than fortunate comrades with such tender care that, just as he noticed Specialist Palasar’s approach, they were sealing the remains away safely. “We are done here, Specialist,’ he informed her, then politely asked, ‘have you considered my advice?”

“I have, First, and I thank you for the courtesy of continuing to pretend that I am in command of this mission! Naturally, I defer to your judgement as to the deployment of your troops. I concur that the wisest course is for most of this party to return to the Flame, for now at least. But I intend to stay and - if it is possible - I would like to request the assistance of any augmented troopers in your patrol.”  She gazed at him steadily as he considered her anew.

When the Sub-Commander had briefed him on this mission, Q had got the impression that he would be minding a child: one still sporting her egg tooth, even!

Specialist Third Palasar had surprised him, and he was no longer inclined to dismiss her out of hand. He took her to one side, allowing his soldiers to carry their sad burdens over the threshold. “Augments?’ he asked curiously, ‘I take that you have some kind of plan to propose?”

Palasar nodded. Q noticed that she no longer wore her helmet just as she began speaking again. “I have been talking some more with Jay-Mee, the friend of Thadokta. You heard him claim that he can speak the language of the Ancients: I am willing to believe him - it seems doubtful that even Oortelian is his own language.’

Q gestured his agreement, inviting her to continue. ‘His friend Zo-Eee was taken by the Ancient. It seems reasonable to suppose that she, also, has this ability with languages - perhaps it is a defensive skill of their species? Regardless, it seems to me that we have been given an opportunity! If these two aliens can translate for me, I propose to attempt to communicate with the Ancient. What if this encounter has just been a tragic misunderstanding up to this point?”

“And you think that Thadokta’s friend will be willing to help you?”

“I think that it would be necessary to render him unconscious, to prevent him from going after his other friend!”

Choosing to postpone comment on that, Q instead asked. “You requested augmented troopers, Specialist. Could you tell me exactly what you have in mind?’ He stopped her reply with a gesture, adding, ‘but I must tell you this. I selected my patrol personally - specifically because they do not have implants of any kind. I was led to believe that there were good reasons for this, at the time.”

The young woman seemed to deflate slightly. “Then what is the point of telling you what I was hoping to use them for?”

“Hmm… I would like to speak with this Jay-Mee myself. The three of us can discuss the feasibility of your proposal while my troops evacuate this vessel. If your plan looks like a workable option, we will all return to the Flame, and seek the Clade Commander’s approval. At that time, the personnel you require can be allocated easily enough.”

“But what about Jay-Mee? I do not think he will want to leave without Zo-Eee!”

“I do not believe that rendering him unconscious will present any difficulties.”

Palasar looked as if she was about to present further arguments, but stopped herself and said. “Yes, I think it is only fair to discuss this with Jay-Mee himself - but please, don’t hurt him, First…’ She paused as another thought occurred. ‘These dead troopers, First… Have you any idea yet what they were doing here?”

“Apart from being killed?’ Q responded without thinking, then hastily made a gesture of conciliation. ‘No, I take that back, Specialist Palasar - that was uncalled for, and I apologise. My anger is not directed at you… I just don’t appreciate being kept in the dark.’ He cast a venomous glare all around the corridor, now fully lit. His gaze was arrested for a moment by a dark red smear high up on one bulkhead. ‘To answer your question, Specialist.  No… I do not. I want to know very much, but speculation in the absence of accurate information… Well, it is not something that I choose to indulge in.” 

“We are not being overheard, First… I left my helmet in the other section. It struck me that what we have just seen must be causing chaos over on the Flame, particularly amongst the enclaves…’ She looked at him searchingly, then drew closer. ‘It also occurs to me, that this could well be the only opportunity that we may have to speculate - will you indulge me, just this once?”

Q studied her for so long that Palasar began to shift uncomfortably, and there was genuine regret in his voice when he replied. “I am sorry, Specialist, I will not. I can only believe that there were sound reasons for placing another patrol on this ship ahead of us; and sound reasons why I was not informed. I may not like this, but I will not question it. Besides,’ he added encouragingly, ‘it would only be guesswork, would it not? I am sure that you are capable of guessing as well as any of us!”

“Very well, First, I do understand,’ Palasar replied, making no attempt to hide her disappointment. ‘Then perhaps you should get the evacuation of your soldiers underway. Once that is arranged to your satisfaction, please join me with Jay-Mee.” She then briskly hopped up over the door-seal, and strode off into the next section.

Q was about to follow her to arrange the order of evacuation, when he stopped with one foot on the seal. He turned his head back to face the far end of this corridor section, taking a moment to stare at the door though which the Ancient had departed.

He wondered just how long they had before it came back…


	16. Chapter 16

“It is a fast-burn energy bar, made from chorpal pods and sugar.” Came a voice from behind him.

Jamie nearly bit the rest of the ration in half! He hadn’t noticed anyone approaching.

“Hey!’ he protested as he swung round on the Oortelian, ‘don’t be sneaking up on a body like that!”

“My apologies, Jamimikron, it was not my intention to startle you. Specialist Palasar requested that I keep you company!”

“Oh aye?’ Jamie jeered skeptically, ‘Come to keep an eye on me, as like as not! Would that no’ be more the lay of the land?” (He was in no mood to be polite after his surprise - he could have choked himself!)

The Oortelian appeared to sense his emotional response somehow. “Truly, Jamimikron, I thought you would hear my approach! I am pleased to keep you company, you are a fascinating creature, and I was glad when Palasar asked me to keep an eye on you… Yes, that is a part of it, I won’t deny it - but I would genuinely like to know more about you. My name is Choltz, Jamimikron, and I am a… a ‘Lassee’? Anyway, I am a female, if you cannot tell.” She seemed to be trying to appear shy and nervous, but for some reason, Jamie did not trust her.

He would have been unable to explain his response if asked, but there it was. He certainly felt no inclination to correct Choltz’ usage of his name. As he looked at her more closely, he noticed that her tongue kept flicking out in an unpleasantly snake-like fashion. Then he spotted something else and took a step back.

“Hey!’ he yelped, pointing at the helmet Choltz was wearing, ‘Is that thing no’ dangerous?”

She seemed confused by his question at first, then slowly raised a hand to pat her headgear. “This?’ The Oortelian woman asked in a puzzled tone. Jamie nodded emphatically. ‘No, Jamimikron, my helmet is not dangerous - at least, I don’t see how it could be…  Oh! It is a little different though. There is a visualiser built into it, so that I can transmit a record back to our ship. Do your people not have such devices?”

“Mebbe,’ Jamie replied slowly, thinking of the Tardis’ scanner, and other magical picture boxes he had seen in his travels with the Doctor, ‘you mean that it’s like a television, or suchlike?”

“Teleh Vizyon?’ Choltz toyed with the word, savoring it with evident enthusiasm. “Yes! To communicate visual information over distance! I like that, Jamimikron, it is a very elegant way of expressing the process! Perhaps we have more in common than I thought…’ She hesitated for a moment, then asked hopefully, ‘Would you like to see my work? Maybe we could compare our technologies?”

Choltz seemed genuinely keen to build bridges, Jamie thought, beginning to question his initial reaction to her. Perhaps she was just one of those people more comfortable around machines and computers, like… Zoe! What was happening even now to Zoe? Horror gripped him once more, but he forced back his concerns reluctantly; painfully aware that he could go nowhere without the co-operation of these Oortelians. He could not help fretting, but decided to bide his time, and also to give Choltz the benefit of doubt. After all, she hadn’t actually done anything to him - he just felt less comfortable with her than he did with Palasar. (And that lassy had a grip on her that would worry a caber champion!)

When Jamie agreed to listen to Choltz she seemed pleased - at least, she stopped doing that snake thing with her tongue. He warned her that the Doctor was really the one to talk to about technical matters, but Choltz waved it off: apparently she was more interested in showing off her own abilities. “Follow me, Jamimikron!” she said enthusiastically, starting to lead him away from the equipment pile; but almost immediately she stopped short, regarding him thoughtfully. Jamie had no idea what she was about, so he just waited patiently until she appeared to come to a decision.

“Thadokta is very important to you, Jamimikron, is he not?’ He didn’t even get a chance to reply before she was nodding, ‘Yes, I can tell that he is… Look, I’m not promising anything, but it is possible that I could help you to get a message to him…”

“You mean I can talk to the Doctor?” Jamie interrupted excitedly.

The Oortelian female looked down at the hand that he had unconsciously grabbed her arm with. Choltz gently removed it, but did not let go of his hand; instead resuming her walk and guiding him along. “No, Jamimikron, I don’t mean that - sorry.’ She paused to point down at a circular door in the floor. Even to Jamie it looked out of place, like a ball of shot emerging from an infected wound. ‘This is the airlock leading back to our own ship,’ Choltz explained, ‘we had to physically drill through the material of this hull, but not just to gain access.’ Still leading him by the hand, she pulled Jamie towards a group of pipes and boxes just beyond the airlock.

‘It was also necessary to insert feedlines and communications links, before any readings could be taken of this vessel’s interior.’ Choltz elaborated, pointing at the jumbled array. ‘These enabled us to gather a little information before boarding - well, enough to know that it appeared to be safe to do so.’

She paused here, and for the first time Jamie realized just how shaken Choltz had been by everything that had occurred. He waited quietly until she released his hand, to gesture again at the mechanical growths. ‘We, Enteberol and I, did this work. But for some reason the link is only one-way. I am at a loss to explain it…”

“So what were you saying earlier, about a message? Can I talk to the Doctor or not?” Jamie asked, both confused and a little impatient.

Choltz sat down beside a large boxy structure and tapped her helmet. “With this,’ then she tapped the box, ‘and this, you can. It’s a booster relay that increases the amount of data we can send back to our ship. Now, it is possible that Thadokta, if he is with the Clade Commander, has already seen what happened here: as witnessed by those of us issued with visi-coms. What I am suggesting is this: You may not be able to have an actual conversation with your friend - you will hear no reply - but you can tell him what has happened… in your own words. He probably won’t get the message right away, but I am sure that whoever is monitoring my signal’s channel will bring it to the Commander’s attention.”

“Will ye’ no’ be getting into trouble for this?”

“I shouldn’t think so, Jamimikron. The whole purpose of the recordings is to gather information; anything that you can tell Thadokta will, I imagine, be helpful to us in some way - even if it is only as a different interpretation of what has happened so far.”

Jamie considered this for a moment, then nodded his agreement as he looked down at Choltz. “Aye, lassy, that sound’s fair enough… what do I have to do?” She patted the deck before her and indicated that he should sit, then scooted back just a little as he did so.

Adjusting the position of her helmet slightly, Choltz once more indicated the odd protuberance on its side. “Just talk to me as if you were talking to Thadokta, Jamimikron, he will see you through this…”

“Er… you can call me Jamie, if ye’ like, Choltz.” The young Scot offered, as a token gesture of friendship.

The lizard-girl seemed a little thrown by this, and her tongue flicked out a couple of times before she asked. “Do you find ‘Jamimikron’ offensive? Have I been saying your name incorrectly all this time?”

“Och, no! No… It’s just…”

“Then I would prefer to continue addressing you as Jamimikron, if you have no objection. It has a very exotic ring to it… It suits you, and I like saying it. Please, Jamimikron, feel free to begin whenever you wish.”

Jamie was about to give Choltz a big smile at what he had perceived as a compliment, but then he recalled Palasar’s earlier reaction - and her warning.

Instead, he took a few moments to compose himself and arrange his thoughts. When he was sure he had everything straight in his head, he looked directly at Choltz, and began to talk to the Doctor.

 

 “…and so I’m stuck here for now, Doctor. The Oortelians are treating me well, but I’m still very worried about Zoe… Um, I guess that’s about it…” Jamie shrugged helplessly. He was unsure what to do next, having run out of things to say. Choltz was about to speak to him when another voice drew both their attentions.

“I am glad to see that you are getting along so well, but I think we should move further away from the airlock. It is likely to be getting quite busy here soon.” It was Palasar, of course.

Jamie felt relieved to see her, and then surprised at just how comfortable he already felt with this alien girl. She was approaching from behind, and to one side of, Choltz. She made a subtle hand gesture that Jamie was unable to interpret. Choltz immediately turned back to face him, as Palasar looked directly at Jamie and put a finger to her lips. That was much easier to read! Jamie tried not to react as Palasar approached Choltz from behind and, removing the other girl’s helmet, placed it on the ‘booster’ box beside her. “Well come on then.” Palasar commanded as she turned away.

Careful not to look back at the abandoned helmet, Jamie rose and followed Choltz, who was close behind the Specialist. Something odd was going on, but he didn’t have a clue what it was, so he held back his questions. He didn’t want to say anything that might spoil things for Palasar. She led them both past the assembling group of soldiers, until they arrived at the far wall. “Tec-Op Choltz,’ she began abruptly, ‘do you have any implants? Cybernetic augments?”

“No, Specialist, they are unnecessary in my area of expertise!’ She was obviously surprised by the question, and Jamie was a little startled too. He didn’t know what ‘orgments’ were, but any word beginning with ‘Cyber’ was something to be wary of, as far as he was concerned. ‘Some of the higher ranking Mech-Tec’s have implants,’ Choltz continued, ‘so that they can communicate more easily with the engines. My own duties are less elevated, of course. May I ask why? If I can help, I will.”

“It was just a passing thought, Choltz, thank you anyway…’ Palasar ran a hand over her forehead and scalp, as if brushing back imaginary hair. ‘I don’t suppose Mech-Tec Enteberol is of high enough rank to require them either? No, he wouldn’t be… forget I asked. Thank you for looking after Jay-Mee, Choltz, but you are free to leave, if you wish to expedite your own evacuation.” The female Tec looked puzzled now, so Palasar indicated back the way they had come.

Jamie also followed the gesture, to see the First issuing instructions to his troops. There were now four, rather ominous looking, rolled silvery blankets lined alongside the equipment pile. These were apparently being ignored for now, as the first two troopers were entering the airlock. Choltz took in the scene slowly, glanced back at Jamie, and then took a faltering step towards the soldiers.

She hesitated, then turned back. “Specialist Palasar, it looks like this could take a while, I am willing to wait my turn. If it is permitted… I would like to stay with Jamimikron until then.”

Palasar looked from her to Jamie, who nodded his agreement, then she just shrugged and acquiesced. “I certainly have no objection, Tec Choltz. It appears that we will all be leaving anyway, sooner rather than later. First has agreed to listen to a proposal of mine beforehand, so he may ask you to leave - but now that I think on it, perhaps a communications Tec could prove useful.’ She looked across to Jamie, who was looking increasingly unsure of himself. ‘Apologies if I have been ignoring you, Jay-Mee, I am unused to this burden of responsibility. You look like you have questions.”

“Aye! That I do, right enough!’ The young Scot responded with alacrity, ‘The first being - what are these cyber thingies you were talking about?”

“Augments?’ Palasar waited for Jamie’s confirmation, then explained, ‘they are simply implanted technology, devices that some people use to improve their abilities. We have implants that can improve sight and hearing, communicate over distance, and interface with our technology - that sort of thing. Why is it of such interest to you, Jay-Mee?”

“Och weel, it disnae matter really, I suppose. I just don’t like that word, and I’ve seen what can happen when people take things like that too far.’ Jamie scratched his head in concentration, then seemed to recall what he had wanted to ask next. ‘Palasar? You said that you were leaving this big ship? You’ll no’ be takin’ me with ye’, lass… I cannae leave… I have to find Zoe!”

“That was one of the things that I wanted to discuss with you, Jay-Mee,’ Palasar assured him, ‘I too would like to remain aboard and seek out your friend, and the… ‘Big Man’ that carried her off! But I don’t know if First will allow it, or even if it is the right thing to do. He will be joining us shortly, Jay-Mee, then I can explain my idea to both of you. Is that acceptable?”

Jamie grudgingly allowed that he could wait for the arrival of this First chap, trying not to show how much Palasar’s words had invigorated him. Just the fact that she had been considering Zoe’s plight was the most encouragement he had so far received! He glanced back to the continuing activity by the airlock, and saw First himself: he was heading in their direction.

Jamie decided to greet the man with a challenge. Although he recalled the First’s strength well enough, he had never let common sense stop him before, so wasn’t about to start now. “So, you’re the man in charge here, eh?”

As he drew nearer, First gave no indication that he had even heard Jamie. Ignoring him completely, he was instead looking at Choltz, but he spoke to Palasar. “Is there a reason for the presence of this Tec-Op, Specialist?”

Palasar gave the impression that she was surprised that he even needed to ask the question. “Of course, First, she would not be here otherwise! My proposal was mainly based on the desire to establish a viable communication protocol - it seemed sensible to have a qualified advisor on hand.’ Choltz nodded, as if she knew what her Specialist was talking about - and First seemed to find this answer acceptable, so Palasar continued. ‘As I told you earlier, First, my main hope was to reunite Jay-Mee and his friend Zo-Eee, so that they might be able to help us talk to the Ancient. But for this attempt to serve any real purpose, we would also need to maintain a link between our elements on board this ship; and pass any information back to the Flame, so that the Clade Commander can be kept informed.”

“Ah… I begin to understand your thinking, Specialist,’ First nodded to himself slowly, ‘hence the requirement for troopers with… let me guess… audio-implants? Yes?”

“Correct,’ Palasar confirmed, ‘although I am now willing to make the attempt even without that support.”

“Aye! And I’m willing to go with her, if it means helping Zoe!’ Jamie interjected, thoroughly annoyed at being excluded from the discussion. “I ken well enough what yon pilot says, and so will Zoe… and you can hear well enough that I can speak your language!”

Not really understanding everything that Jaymee had just said, First cast an impartial gaze across all three of them. Jamie: defiant. Palasar - nervous, yet hopeful. Choltz - suddenly looking slightly ill, as the implications of this discussion began to sink in. He was about to reply when a loud shout from above distracted them all.

“Q! Fancy meeting you here! Glad to see you looking so well!”


	17. Chapter 17

It was with great relief that Faramandar had received the reports of his Third’s. It appeared that only the hatch in this particular section had been locked off! They would be able to get to the Oortelian airlock much more easily than he had initially feared. The Ghost First decided right away that discovering the status of the other Oortelian team was now his immediate priority, and led his patrol back to the appropriate hatch. After a quick study of the scene below - everything seemed to be quiet and organized - Faramandar determined to announce his presence personally.

Leaving his troopers behind (he felt it wisest not to alarm the other team unduly,) Faramandar slid through the opening and examined their activity further, noting the makeshift body bags sadly. When he identified the Patrol First, he silently but rapidly swarmed along the ceiling until he was in hailing distance. Predictably, Quetzlepod did not seem surprised to see him… The man must have been expecting someone after finding the dead troopers, after all. The others, including one of the aliens that those soldiers had been sent to retrieve, all jumped as they looked up and saw him. Q merely glared, as Faramandar slithered halfway down the wall, then jumped the remaining distance to the deck.

“So,’ Q said neutrally, ‘Clade Commander Silandor sent his nest-brother. May I ask why I was not advised of the presence of an advance patrol, Faramandar? Or is that information not pertinent to my mission?” The others with Q, two females, stirred uncomfortably; perhaps anticipating conflict. Faramandar watched them lead the alien a few paces away before replying.

“We are not at odds here, Q. It was implicit in my mission profile to keep my troopers unobserved, particularly by anyone wearing a visi-com unit. We are still on the same side, my friend, we just had different orders.”

“Such as?”

“To make sure that your own patrol wouldn’t encounter any unexpected surprises, actually.” Faramandar struggled not to betray any embarrassment as he said this, but was unsure how well he succeeded. Particularly when Q chose not to reply verbally, instead turning to glare pointedly at the four body-bags.

“What killed my troopers, Q?’ Faramandar asked, suddenly needing to know urgently. ‘I tasked them to capture that alien creature, and one other,’ Faramandar lowered his arm after pointing at Jamie, ‘but something else arrived. What was it?”

Q seemed surprised for the first time. “You didn’t see it? No, of course not, why ask otherwise.’ He looked at Faramandar thoughtfully for a moment, then shrugged. ‘You outrank me here, Sir. I shall tell you as much as I can, but before that, I must inform you that I have initiated a withdrawal to the Indigo Flame. Do you wish to countermand that, Sir?’ When Faramandar indicated that he did not, Q continued. ‘Then I suggest that you assemble your patrol, Sir, to expedite the process.”

Faramandar agreed. He activated his coms implant, noting that Q was regarding him with a curious expression as he did so. He gave the pre-arranged throat-click signal to his Second, Exetrallus, then asked, “Why are you looking at me like that, Q?”

“You have functional full spectrum implants, Sir?”

“Of course, Q, all of my Elite do. I would have thought that you were aware of this!”

“Yes, Sir, but I thought that perhaps they might have been deactivated before boarding this ship. You see, I was ordered to select only non-augmented personnel for my own patrol. There was a suggestion that our technology might somehow come into conflict with the systems on this ship - it is alien, after all.”

Faramandar froze. That possibility had not been mentioned in his own briefing, and he was uncomfortable that such an eventuality had never even occurred to him! This was supposed to be a derelict vessel, floating lifeless in the void, true enough. But still an alien vessel, non-Oortelian - he should have thought of such a potential risk himself! Then something else occurred to him, and he began to nod to himself slowly. “I think I can see another reason that you might have been instructed to use only implant-free soldiers, Q…

“To minimize any possibility of our detecting your presence?”

“Just so. It would have been unlikely, of course, but a great deal of caution has been applied to this mission. I wouldn’t put it past my… the Clade Commander to be so careful. Is there any particular reason that this is of interest you?”

“There could be, Faramandar. Do you need to supervise your troops, Sir?”

“Exetrallus has matters well in hand, Q. I must tell you, however, that I grow impatient with this conversation.”

“I understand, Sir. I shall provide you with a briefing on our encounter momentarily.’ Q paused and tapped the side of his jaw. ‘But just before I do, can I request that you instruct your Second to hold a few troopers back from the evacuation? I would like to introduce you to Specialist Third Palasar. She has a proposal that you may wish to consider - once I have told you what we have seen.”

 

It was like looking into a mirror, except that there was no reflection - of anything.

Zoe found the vision fascinating and perplexing in equal measure. “Is it safe to touch?” she called back to Null, who nodded agreement, or maybe permission. Reaching out cautiously, Zoe tentatively tapped the anomaly with a finger, half expecting it to slide off the shining surface, or be repelled in some other fashion. Nothing like that happened. Her finger simply stopped as if it had come into contact with a solid object, but she could feel nothing.

Even when she pressed the palm of her hand flat against it, there was no physical sensation; only the evidence of her own eyes, and the fact that her hand would go no further.

“It’s very odd, I’ll grant you,’ Zoe admitted to Null as she walked back across the chamber towards him, ‘but to suggest that it is a solidified moment of time… I’m sorry, Null, that’s just too bizarre for me! In fact it sounds absolutely preposterous!”

Null just shrugged and waved away her comment. “That’s not really what I meant, Zoe. I don’t actually understand all this myself, as I told you. I’m just trying to tell you how I personally imagine temporal isolation to work - I never anticipated that I would need to understand it, that wasn’t my job. We were supposed to be re-activated by people who already knew all about it!” He was sitting on the deck outside the chamber, so that he could see and speak to Zoe more easily. His face still carried a trace of the stunned surprise he had displayed on opening the vault doors. Zoe had volunteered to enter alone, as Null was too big for the chamber that had been revealed.

There hadn’t been much sightseeing on the way here, Zoe reflected, as her huge companion had not wasted any time. As they rushed through various decks she had only been struck by the apparent emptiness of the place, although perhaps Null had a reason for travelling through specific corridors. When she had asked him about this, the pilot had explained that his ship was really not much more than a protective buffer zone around the treasure at its core; heavily compartmentalised for additional security.

There were more actively operational areas, such as the flight deck, engineering section, and the engines themselves: but the day to day living for the crew had mostly been aboard the survival pod.

When they had arrived at Null’s destination, he had pointed out a massive hatch cover that ran along one wall. “That contains my personal isolation chamber, Zoe, the one that was automatically opened by your arrival. Or at least, by your bio-trace, I believe. My crew… my friends… were all in larger units built into the survival pod. Something catastrophic - an accident or attack, maybe even mechanical failure - must have happened to them. But this is what I wanted to show you, Zoe…” He carried her further down the relatively short corridor section to stand in front of ‘The Vault of Memories’.

Naturally, Zoe had already noticed those doors; they would have been hard to miss, even if the lighting throughout the ship hadn’t increased. They more or less filled the end of this access corridor. There wasn’t very much in the way of distinguishing features though, they were fairly plain and utilitarian. At least for something that Null held in such obvious reverence, Zoe had thought. A crenellated parting ran down the center point, as if two melded cog wheels had been straightened out into a line; a Null-size keypad was inset into the right-hand door at the appropriate height. However, Zoe couldn’t see how even the pilot would be able to operate it. There appeared to be a solid seal of some transparent substance over it, like resin hardened around a prehistoric insect.

Lower down, there was a smaller door set into the large one. Null had drawn her attention to this, then gently set her down on the deck before it. Tapping a code into his wrist pad, he had explained. “We have a multiply redundant security system, Zoe, intended to ensure that only people who have the right may enter the vault. At least, that was the intention. Only I have the entry code to this door but, as you may have noticed, there is another step to be taken before I can access the keypad.’ The smaller door had now opened - apparently in response to Null’s signal. ‘This is where I would ask you to trust me, Zoe. I need you to step inside this sensor lock so that you can be scanned once more.”

Zoe looked dubiously at the revealed opening, which seemed to be unnaturally dark to her. Unless its size was simply an aesthetic affectation, which seemed unlikely given what else she had seen of Null’s ship; then it was intended for a being about two Jamie’s tall. “Why?” She had asked, simply.

The giant pilot had just repeated his request that she trust him, this time adding the promise that she would come to no harm. Zoe had decided to co-operate, despite her natural caution. It had seemed the most efficient way to find out just what all this was about.

Approaching the opening more closely, Zoe had noticed that it was not simply shadows that caused the darkness inside: the interior seemed to be constructed from black glass, uncomfortably reminiscent of an obsidian sarcophagus. Noting her hesitation, Null again reassured her. “It is perfectly safe, Zoe, you have my word on that. It is simply a more accurate scanning system than that built into my master control board on the flight deck. It is totally non-invasive - you won’t feel a thing, I promise.” Firming her resolve, Zoe had nodded her agreement and stepped into the darkness.

Once Null had ordered the door closed behind her, Zoe could see nothing at all for a few moments. Then a luminous blue glow began to form beneath her feet. More in curiosity than fear, she watched as the glow expanded to the sides of the dark space, transforming into a blue line that began to advance up the walls all around her. Zoe could see the blue line also travelling up her own body but, as Null had promised, she didn’t actually feel anything. She didn’t even have to squint when it passed the level of her eyes. Zoe watched the glow continue up towards the ceiling, where it had disappeared just as it had appeared; then a slight hiss of pressure differential informed her that the door was opening again.

Null collected her once more, beaming with pleasure. By this time it had seemed like the most natural thing in the world to step onto Null’s palm, allowing him to raise her. “Thank you so much, Zoe! I’m glad you could trust me - it worked! See?” Zoe felt herself whizzing upwards dizzily until she was facing the keypad that the pilot had pointed out before. Only now the substance that had been blocking access to it was dissolving or evaporating. Maybe even just fading out of existence - she really couldn’t make it out. Neither could she understand why this alien vessel seemed to recognize her. Null had tapped in a rapid sequence on the keypad, then stepped back to get a better view. Zoe, cradled against his chest, could feel that he was holding his breath.

Accompanied by the sounds of disengaging mechanisms, a hum of power, and a startlingly sharp hiss: the vertical jaws of the vault doors had separated. Each slowly slid aside into its respective wall, retreating into recesses that had not been apparent before. They revealed another chamber beyond, centered in a solid looking bulkhead. Literally centered: the chamber’s floor started some distance above the corridors deck. Perhaps yet another security measure, but something else was a little odd about it. Frowning in puzzlement, Zoe had belatedly realized that, although it was still very big from her own perspective, there was no way that Null would be able to squeeze into it. “Um… is this what you were expecting to find?” she had asked. From his bewildered expression, and the slow denial of his shaking head, it had been obvious that it was not.

And so Zoe had been the one to enter the chamber, or perhaps antechamber, with Null’s approval and assistance. She had first noticed that it contained several banks of sophisticated looking consoles. However, these were evidently designed to be operated from a standing position. Quiet apart from the absence of any seating, Zoe could not see the desk surfaces, only the display monitors that filled the walls above them. However, these were of little immediate interest to Zoe: she had instead found her attention being drawn to the luminous, mirror-like surface at the far end of the chamber.

Now that she had had the opportunity to study it up close, Zoe felt no nearer to understanding it. Null’s fumbling attempts at explanation had been no help, in fact she suspected that he was just as confused as she was. Fighting down the small part of herself that suspected that he was being deliberately evasive, Zoe asked. “You weren’t expecting to be unable to enter the vault yourself, were you?” Null looked momentarily distracted, then shrugged again.

“To be honest? No, it just never occurred to me that the vault might be of a scale with a previous generation. Although, now that I have had time to process the matter… perhaps it should have been obvious. I had always assumed that we were not just sent to act as guardians of the vault; but that we would play an active role in recovering the Memories. As much as I dislike the notion, I have to conclude that we were misled for some reason…’ He paused for thought for a moment, then looked back at Zoe so sharply that she almost jumped. “You can speak my language, Zoe, you were able to understand the writing on the flight deck. Do you think that you might be able to do the same with the systems in there?”

Zoe looked up speculatively at the towering consoles around her. “Well, I don’t see why not, Null. You could say that I have a talent for languages these days, but… You will have to reach in here and hold me up so that I can see the displays. I assume that the language will be the same as on your board?’ Null confirmed this with a perfunctory nod. ‘Then all I should have to do is read out what I see, I guess. Any instructions or information would probably mean more to you than they would to me!”

Null remained seated outside the anti-chamber, but adjusted his position slightly. Once he was comfortable, he made a passable seat of his cupped hand, then carefully offered it to the girl that he was rapidly coming to consider a friend. “Thank you for doing this, Zoe, I am very grateful for your assistance. I promise that, whatever we find out here - my next priority will be the recovery of your companions.”

 

As he approached the entry portal with his escort, the Doctor had to fight down the uncomfortable suspicion that he was about to be thrown to the wolves…

At least, this time, his passage through the Indigo Flame had been a little more dignified than his initial experience! Silandor had assumed command again, once he had spoken to the Doctor, and tasked Sub-Commander Talamane herself to introduce him to ‘The Enclaves’, his original escort having been ordered elsewhere. She had been courteous and polite, a most delightful guide in fact, and she had given him a few little tidbit’s about the people he was going to meet.

However, she had also spent quite some time holding a one-sided conversation with someone that the Doctor couldn’t see. He had assumed that this must be a subordinate, already with the members of the enclaves, simply from the tone of her instructions. This too was a handy bonus, as it allowed the Doctor time to review the Clade Commander’s last few comments to him.

“Do not be surprised, Dokta,’ Silandor had said, ‘if they have already surmised much of what I have told you. From my own conversations, I imagine that they must already suspect that I have kept some details from them. They have been informed of the temporal discrepancies that we have encountered, but not in full detail.”

And: “Do not underestimate the intelligence of these people, Dokta. They are the descendants of a great Oortelian legacy. If you let slip even a hint of a technology that we do not currently possess - that could be the spark that sets the forest aflame.”

And: “This is a request, Dokta, not an order. Please do not mention your encounter on board the derelict… I suppose I should stop calling it that, really.  Allow me the time to gain a better understanding of the situation - I will inform the Honored Elders of the enclaves myself, when I consider it wisest to do so. Also, I would appreciate it if you do not initiate any speculative theorising yourself. Rather, I suggest that you confine yourself to responding or contributing when they speculate - and believe me, they will.

‘Endlessly, if permitted…”

Talamane stalked ahead of him, still whispering something to thin air, and the portal irised open for her. He could hear another voice coming from inside, announcing his own imminent arrival. As the sub-commander invited him to step through the portal, the Doctor took a fortifying breath, straightened his bow tie: and marched in to meet his audience.


	18. Chapter 18

It wasn’t nearly as bad as the Doctor had been anticipating.

He found himself inside a large circular room, which looked like nothing so much as a ‘space-age’ version of an ancient Roman amphitheater. This impression was emphasized by the tiered rows of seating that ringed the space. With Talamane acting as his escort and (possibly) bodyguard; he ambled cautiously down a pathway to the central stage, studying the gathered Oortelians that he passed. Curbing his natural inclination to smile greetings to all and sundry, the Doctor restricted himself to polite nods of acknowledgement.

The enclave representatives studied him in turn, with every appearance of - as far as the Doctor could tell - amazement and fascination, underpinned by intense curiosity. They were clothed differently from the Oortelians that he had met so far, favouring robes and tabards in heavy cloths of bewildering variety. If these were intended to indicate variations of rank or affiliation, they meant nothing to the Doctor.

He had not actually been expecting applause, of course, but a barrage of questions from a baying mob would not have surprised him unduly. He was very grateful to be proved wrong in his assumptions: the gathered crowd observed him in total silence as he approached the central stage.

Having been more intent on making eye contact with as many of these people as he could, the Doctor was startled to be confronted by his own features writ large as he ascended the steps. A very big globe took pride of place on the stage, containing an unsettlingly magnified close-up of his own face. He hastily recovered his composure, as Talamane joined him on the platform. She began to address everyone, her voice pitched to carry throughout the room.

“Honored Elders, Enclave representatives, and fellow Oortelians, thank you for your patient attention. Thadokta here is the first intelligent non-Oortelian that we have ever encountered, as you well know - I am pleased that you have agreed to greet him with such dignity.’ She turned her attention to one particular fellow in the front row of seating, respectfully asking, ‘Archivist First Valmik. May I assume that the suggestions passed on by Coms-Spec Thraxle met with the approval of the enclaves?”

“You may indeed, Sub-Commander, the proposal was most acceptable.’ The Archivist First, whom the Doctor thought looked to be an older gentleman - if his throat wattles were any indication - rose to his feet. ‘If I may first formally greet our celebrated guest, Sub-Commander?’ He hardly acknowledged the officer as she stepped back, waving the (slightly nervous) Doctor forward.

The Doctor entwined his fingers before his stomach and twiddled his thumbs, trying to look politely attentive. ‘On behalf of the Oortelian Enclaves,’ Valmik began, ‘please allow me to extend our warmest welcome, Thadokta. It truly is a momentous occasion for us. I trust that the Clade Commander’s people have been treating you well, and I hope that your medical examination went smoothly, causing no discomfort or distress to you.”

The Doctor blinked in surprise at this last, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead as he briefly licked his lips. He had no recollection of any medical exam, but concluded that it might be best not to mention that just now. As least he was able to reply with completely honesty. “No, no, none at all, Archivist First! Thank you for your concern, and for your most generous welcome!’ He momentarily considered correcting the man’s usage of his name, but decided it would probably be easier all round if he just accepted it. ‘Er… I believe that you have some questions for me? I cannot promise that I will know all the answers, and I may well have some questions of my own… but I always enjoy a good chat!”

“A good answer, Thadokta! You are correct, I believe that we have much to discuss! However, we do not wish to overwhelm or confuse you by all talking at once…’ Valmik cast an ironic gaze around at his fellows, but no-one noticed his theatricality. Although all were nodding agreement, they had eyes only for the alien, so he hurried on. ‘We have allocated subjects to various representatives, Thadokta, and they will introduce themselves to you, before posing their question. If anyone has anything to contribute to a particular discussion, they will raise a hand and wait for your permission to speak. This seemed like the most efficient approach to take. Are you happy with that suggestion, Thadokta?”

The Doctor agreed that this seemed a most sensible way to proceed, then tugged at an ear as he enquired. “I get the feeling that we may be here some time, Archivist First. Would anyone mind terribly if I sat down?” He had fully intended to just plonk himself down on the stage, but one of the Oortelians already on the platform brought a chair across for him. He sat down gratefully. “Well then, where do you suggest that we start?”

Resuming his own seat in the audience, Valmik looked back expectantly. “As you know, Thadokta, I am Archivist First Valmik. Before anything else, we would very much like to hear a more detailed explanation of your presence on the Ship of The Ancients, if you please!”

Having half expected this to be the first thing asked, the Doctor rubbed his chin as he gathered his thoughts, then began to repeat his (slightly edited) account again. “Well, it was all a most unexpected accident, really. My companions, Jamie and Zoe, and I, were travelling in our ship on a very routine journey. Everything was going swimmingly - I even had the opportunity to make some routine upgrades to the ships systems - when suddenly we encountered some turbulence…”

It wasn’t too long before the Doctor’s story was interrupted, as a number of hands were raised requesting acknowledgement. He gestured to someone at random, not having any way to determine who might be the most appropriate choice. The Oortelian stood and introduced himself. “Thank you, Thadokta, I am Theoretical Possibilities First Revelar. Forgive me if I am misunderstanding your words - are you saying that your craft landed, or perhaps crashed, inside the Ship of The Ancients?”

“Er… yes… well, as it happens, that is exactly what I am saying.”

“But how is that possible, Thadokta? Were you drawn inside through some opening that we are unable to locate?”

“That is a possibility, I suppose. My ship is quite small…’

The Doctor paused thoughtfully, then shrugged helplessly. ‘But as I told you, none of us actually saw that ship from the outside, so I have no idea. My ship was being subjected to a considerable shaking about, the three of us were thrown all over the place! Not to mention that the control room was full of smoke! It was a great relief when we were alerted to our landing, I don’t mind telling you! But we didn’t actually know where we had landed, I’m afraid… At least, not until we left our own craft.”

Revelar nodded slowly. “Thank you, Thadokta. I would like to discuss this further, my enclave has many theories that may provide possible explanations. However, that can wait… please continue.’ He made to seat himself then stopped, as if suddenly remembering something. ‘Oh, one other thing, Thadokta. A personal question regarding a disputed theory - are your people of Mammalian origins?” Before the Doctor could begin to formulate a response, the Archivist, Valmik, sharply instructed Revelar to be seated.

“This isn’t the time for your pet theories, Revelar! And we don’t want to offend our guest, do we?’ He sounded as if he imagined that the Doctor might find such a suggestion grossly insulting. As soon as Valmik invited him to proceed once more, the Doctor hurried to put everyone at ease.

“That’s quite alright, Valmik, and no offense is taken, Revelar! If it will help to resolve a dispute, I see no reason not to answer. Indeed, we do represent species’ of mammalian origins, just as you Oortelians are quite obviously reptilian. No harm done!’ He didn’t see any need to mention that he and his friends were actually from different species themselves: he had no desire to complicate matters even further. Leaning forward in his chair, the Doctor rubbed his hands on his thighs, making a show of collecting his thoughts. ‘Now then,’ he began, ‘where was I?”

It wasn’t long before the next interruption, which he did not find entirely surprising.

 

Having reviewed the events that took place during his seclusion with Dokta, Clade Commander Silandor returned his attention to the main screen. It was fortunate that the little alien had not heard much of the conversation between Specialist Palasar and his friend, Jaymee, before Silandor raised the privacy screen. It was even more fortunate that neither of them had seen the view from the Choltz woman’s visi-com. Silandor was unsure how he himself would have reacted to the sight of those dead troopers, at least in real time. That was the main advantage of replaying the recordings on his personal display pad, he supposed: it gave one a little distance from the scene.

For a while he had puzzled over their presence there in the first place.

Why had Faramandar chosen to risk revealing the presence of his covert patrol to the official team? Then it struck him: the other two aliens! The troopers were probably attempting to capture them, planning to do so before Palasar’s detachment entered that section, which meant that Faramandar’s patrol were concealed somewhere nearby.

With the luxury of hindsight, he considered this to be an ill-considered tactical decision. The absence of the friends that Dokta had reported to Palasar would have raised suspicions: if not in her, then most definitely in her First. (Then again, Faramandar would not have been privy to that conversation…)

More critically, however, those soldiers had paid for his brother’s miscalculation with their lives. Obviously, nobody could have anticipated the arrival of the giant alien - that horribly warped and distorted embodiment of a character from legend, but if the troopers hadn’t been there at that exact moment…

No, it was just horrendously unfortunate timing. Second guessing past decisions served little useful purpose, outside of Officer Training School. Silandor was unsure what to make of the killings, but naturally found them deeply worrisome. Evidently the unexpected ‘Ancient’ could have also wiped out Palasar’s team with ease, but had chosen not to do so.

Its behavior was deeply puzzling. However, Dokta’s friend, Jaymee, claimed to have understood what the creature had said. The message had seemed pretty unequivocal to the Clade Commander, and he imagined that both Ghost Patrol First’s would come to a similar conclusion. It was now inevitable that they would meet soon. Silandor felt his decision to cut off Palasar’s feed to the Visi-Sphere was now doubly justified. Even in the shadow of larger concerns, he suspected that the enclave’s elders would not look too kindly on his well-intentioned subterfuge.

On the main viewer, Specialist Palasar’s quarter-screen was now focused on a close-up of the alien Jaymee’s face. She was evidently attempting to establish a rapport by ministering to his injuries. Dokta’s companion also had an astonishing grasp of the Oortelian language, but occasionally his peculiar accent made his words incomprehensible. Silandor muted the sound feed through his personal screen controls, bringing up the sound for the Mech-Tec’s screen. It soon became obvious to the Clade Commander that the man had no clear instructions to follow by this point.

His view kept alternating between all the different areas of activity happening around him, which was sound practice, but evidently the man did not possess the initiative to provide a verbal commentary of what he was observing. However, a quick examination of the other two quarters were even less useful. Tec-Op Choltz seemed unable to draw her attention from a group of troopers that were collecting a body from half-way down the next corridor section. Worse yet, the soldier that had been providing the overview screen was one of those troopers! His screen was showing the recovery of the corpse in close-up detail.

Without further consideration, Silandor enlarged Enteberol’s screen, so that it occluded the other three, then sat back to consider his options.

As he switched his personal display over to monitor Dokta’s meeting with the enclave’s, he realized that his inability to communicate directly with those aboard the other ship didn’t really leave him many. Whether it was because of some property in the vessels hull metal, or an effect of the apparent time distortion surrounding it: the situation was intensely frustrating.

Silandor determined that he must find a workable solution to this problem as a matter of priority.

 

It was as he began to describe the flight deck that he, Zoe, and Jamie had found themselves on that - predictably enough - the Doctor noticed stirrings in his audience, and a flock of hands rose into the air. This time he really wasn’t keen to nominate anyone, so he glanced towards Valmik for assistance. The Archivist took this as his cue to rise and address his associates. “Friends, I believe that we all want to know the same things here, so I shall take the liberty of opening this subject myself. Please continue to control your enthusiasm, and I’m sure that we will be able to proceed more efficiently.”

The Doctor felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as the Archivist turned back to him. He had the strongest suspicion that things might get a little involved here, and Zoe and Jamie were never far from his thoughts. He resigned himself to deal with one thing at a time, as Valmik asked. “Would you be kind enough to elaborate on this ‘flight deck’, Thadokta? Only, unless I am misinterpreting what you say, you appear to be describing a room built for… giants. Is that correct?”

“That’s right, Archivist First,’ the Doctor replied quietly, ‘I couldn’t quite believe it myself, at first. Not only was the room itself extremely large, but the seating that we saw was much too big for people like us - and I am including your good selves in that observation. I shall attempt to demonstrate.’ The Doctor rose from his chair and continued to explain, gesticulating unconsciously. “Now, by this point my friends and I had decided that we needed to explore further to, er… Well, just to see what was what, really. Remember, our ship was damaged, so we couldn’t leave right away, as much as we may have wanted to.

‘We couldn’t see a way off the flight deck, so the best option was to examine the control panel in front of the pilot’s seat. This should give you a better idea of the size of the, um… furniture. Now, my friend Jamie is about this tall,’ he waved a hand vaguely above his head. ‘Zoe is about my height, and she had to stand on Jamie’s shoulders before she could even reach the level of the seat itself!”

“One moment, Thadokta,’ requested Valmik, ‘are you saying that this ship was built by very large Oortelianoids?”

“Eh?’ blinked the Doctor. ‘Oh! Oh, of course! I see what you mean! Yes, the way that everything was designed or configured led me to that conclusion. The occupants would definitely have matched the bipedal model, despite their uncommon size.” Anything further that the Doctor may have said would have been drowned out by the sudden uproar. All around the amphitheater people became embroiled in arguments, while others rose to their feet shouting out questions. The Doctor took an involuntary step back, but placed a calming hand on Talamane’s arm as she came to stand beside him.

Everyone was clearly very excited, but the Doctor did not believe that anyone meant him any harm. It actually seemed to him that they were simply unable to bottle up their emotions any longer; as if the previous calm was simply too difficult to maintain. Archivist First Valmik, on the other hand, looked absolutely furious as he stormed up onto the stage. He flicked a hand at the Oortelian seated at a console by the large globe at center stage, shook his head, and then indicated to Talamane that he would handle this situation himself.

He did this by the simple expedient of crossing his arms over his chest and stalking around the circular stage. At each point he would stop and glare at everyone in his line of sight, until they calmed down.

Those standing and looking towards the stage noticed him first, naturally, and hurriedly quietened those seated around themselves. Word spread quite fast, in both directions around the stage. By the time Valmik reached the area of the stage where a view of Thadokta was obscured by the Visi-Sphere, he was almost surprised that they were still shouting. Once they had subsided under the glowering threat of his disapproval, Valmik glanced back at the sphere itself. Instead of the view of the back of Thadokta’s head he had expected to see, the Archivist found himself looking at the same frozen representation of the alien’s face that he had seen from his own seat.

As he completed his circuit of the slowly calming amphitheater, Valmik occasionally allowed himself a quick peek at the Visi-Sphere, only to be presented with the self-same image each time. How this was achieved he could not begin to guess, but - as much as it intrigued him - he put the odd phenomena out of his mind as he raised his voice. “My friends, you embarrass me! You embarrass yourselves! While I can understand your fervor – and you all know that I share it - I had hoped that we would be able to show a more unified front… a more dignified reception, to our guest.’

By this time he had returned to his starting point. ‘Please, Thadokta, forgive our reactions,’ he offered, ‘I imagine you have little idea of just how important your revelations are to the Oortelian people.”

“I believe that I am beginning to suspect, just a bit, Archivist First,’ the Doctor replied, then - reluctantly - forced himself to ask, ‘but, if it would not take too much time, perhaps you would care to explain it to me?” Valmik agreed to this request effusively, so the Doctor sat himself back down as Valmik returned to his own place in the audience. He watched rather glumly as the Archivist also sat down - evidently the fellow was settling in for a long speech.

Much of it followed a very similar line to Silandor’s own summary, until the archeological discoveries on Indigo were uncovered, when the Archivist offered the floor to that theories chap. Revelar, much to the Doctor’s surprise. “You must understand, Thadokta,’ began the younger Oortelian, ‘that until this discovery, our people had always had a certain understanding of where we had come from. Evidence of the existence of gigantic reptiles in Oortelia’s deep past led to the birth of a new science: to study these fossils and discover as many as could be found. A bewildering variety of species were brought to light over the decades, showing that many changes had taken place over millions of years.

‘The fossils that were closest to us in geological time were much smaller in size than those first giant lizards. Although no direct link to these beasts has been found, even to this day, the logical conclusion was that we were the ultimate product of an evolutionary process. It was the only explanation for our existence as a species - until the finds on the planet Indigo! Although the surviving evidence was scarce and fragmentary, it was a clear indication of another civilization - a race of giants, long extinct. Even as these clues were studied on Indigo, increasing efforts were made to discover if these Ancients had ever existed on Oortelia.”

“Am I to take it that such evidence was found?” the Doctor interjected, already knowing the answer.

Revelar looked triumphant as he replied. “Yes, Thadokta! It took many, many solar orbits, but incontrovertible proof was eventually found! The fossil records, and other evidence discovered, showed that the Ancients had indeed been present on our home world! Can you imagine how this changed our view of our own place in the universe? Is it not much more likely that the Oortelian species are the devolved descendants of an advanced spacefaring culture, rather than merely evolved from simple animals?”

“Yes, I can certainly see the appeal of such a notion.” The Doctor replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, adding sotto voce, ‘we all create God in our own image, I suppose.” He had actually just been ruminating to himself, so was surprised when Revelar answered him.

“You misunderstand me, Thadokta, the Ancients were not Gods. They were our ancestors! Again, we have found no direct link as yet, but our people have spent generations searching the stars to discover it.”

Archivist First Valmik gestured Revelar to be seated, as he pronounced, “And judging by your testimony, Thadokta, it would appear that we have at last reached the end of our long quest!”

With a mild frisson of alarm, the Doctor realized that he now had a better understanding of the Clade Commanders concerns.

Silandor’s cryptic comments had appeared to be deliberately vague and, perhaps, overly dramatic at the time: but if these people really believed that clues to the origin of their species were to be found on that ship… Well, that seemed rather unlikely, given the Commander’s description of the vessel’s pilot!

“Ah… I’m sure I couldn’t comment on that, Valmik,’ the Doctor hedged, ‘although I can honestly say that I personally saw no evidence of… giant versions of yourselves on the alien ship. The rest of the vessel appeared to just be empty corridors, until I encountered Specialist Palasar’s group.”

“Oh, Thadokta!’ the Archivist First responded, sounding almost jovial, ‘just the existence of the Ship of The Ancients, as you describe it, is proof enough! Who else would have built - or even needed - a vessel of such dimensions? I am sure that when we are finally permitted to board the Ship ourselves… Well, we Oortelian’s are a patient people, and we have had many generations to learn how to decipher the Ancient’s secrets - I am sure we will eventually ferret out the truth!”

Shifting uncomfortably on his chair, the Doctor managed to control an urge to get up and pace.

Tugging thoughtfully on his lower lip, he considered just how to phrase his next enquiries.

Finally, he said, “Forgive me, Archivist First Valmik, I have no wish to cast aspersions on the work of yourselves or your predecessors, but if I understand you correctly…

‘You are suggesting that this vessel is the product of a civilization that became extinct before your own species existed, yes?’ On receiving a confirming blink, the Doctor continued. ‘Ah… Well, and please don’t think me flippant; but does it not strike you that the ship is in astonishingly good condition for something that old? Or are you suggesting that these Ancients may still be extant, somewhere out, um… There?”

“Those are good questions, Thadokta, and don’t think that we have not considered them ourselves.’ Valmik replied in a reasonable tone. ‘To answer the last first, no, we have no expectations of encountering living Ancients - no matter how far our species explores. They are long gone, leaving behind only tantalizing clues. The first long-range information that we received about the Ship’s existence was recorded generations ago - you can imagine our disbelief when it was finally received!’ He paused to sweep a gaze around several members of the audience, before coming back to rest on Talamane. ‘Indeed, Fleet was entirely convinced that the Ship was a derelict from another space-faring culture: evidence that we were not alone in the universe.

‘A not unreasonable position for the military to take, I freely admit: but as paradigm shifting as such a discovery would be, we of the enclaves hoped for so much more. That is why those of us present were willing to undertake such a long voyage, although we are beginning to suspect that it has actually been much longer than we realized at first…”

“I’m sorry?’ Perked the Doctor, suddenly intrigued. ‘I don’t think I understand?”

Valmik regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then once more addressed his fellows. “Forgive me, my friends. I know you were promised a chance to address Thadokta yourself but, for the sake of expediency, I must again beg your indulgence. I will call upon the expertise of Archeologist First Saxatrage and Theoretical Possibilities First Revelar only, but first…’ He stood. ‘There is evidence that time is being, or has been, affected or… influenced in some fashion in the vicinity of the Ship of The Ancients, Thadokta.

‘How far that influence spreads is open to debate. The Clade Commander, for reasons of his own, has not been entirely forthcoming: but we can replay some very interesting recordings for you later, if you wish. For now, suffice it to say that, inside a certain sphere of influence - time itself appears to run at a different rate. We have had many debates concerning time and the Ancients over the generations.”

Gesturing to another, apparently elderly Oortelian, Valmik relinquished the floor. The Doctor watched with some concern as the old fellow was assisted to his feet by those either side of him. He was about to suggest that this was not strictly necessary, when the archeologist began speaking. “I am Saxatrage, Thadokta, it is a truly remarkable honor to meet you.’ His voice was surprisingly strong. ‘What my colleague is referring to, is the condition of the evidence that has been gathered from several disparate worlds, over a very long period of time. As each new finding was catalogued, certain anomalous readings began to be repeated. Originally, at the first sites, these were put down to error, or misunderstanding by our researchers. As the patterns recurred, however, we had to re-examine our assumptions.”

The old gentleman broke into a wheezy cough for a moment then, waving a hand in apology, continued in a lecturing tone. “It is really quite simple, when considered in hindsight, but it took us a considerable time to actually believe our own findings. Allow me to explain… The fossilized bone fragments were quite straightforward to analyze and examine, despite the astonishing discovery that they represented. The fossil formation followed precisely the same process as those we had been studying for so long on Oortelia itself, before we had even imagined leaving our home planet. This being the case, it was simplicity itself to confirm that they had been laid down in the same geological timeframe as the strata in which they were found.

'However, there were also fragments of technological artifacts, and trace elements of unidentifiable metals and chemicals. Now, some of the digs covered large areas, so any dating discrepancies were originally put down to these finds being unrelated to our main area of interest. Another factor was that much of the material was so strange, so alien, that our conclusions were not considered trustworthy.  Even material that was found in close proximity to, or even fused with the fossil evidence… well, it was just dismissed as later contamination. In short, those readings that we were actually able to take of these artifacts… Indicated that they were younger, in geological terms, than the fossils of the Ancients themselves.

‘Obviously, the findings were dismissed as… dubious, at the very least. As the evidence became available for study by other enclaves, it was expected that the harder sciences may at least be able to glean some information from this material…’ Saxatrage creaked slowly around to beckon Revelar to stand, before being helped back into his own seat. ‘But it was actually the softest science of all that began to develop possible explanations.”

Bounding up from his seat enthusiastically, Revelar bowed to the venerable archeologist before turning to the stage. “Many thanks, Honored Elder, and hello again, Thadokta! You may recall that I wanted to discuss with you some ideas as to why your ship actually crashed inside the Ship of The Ancients? Good… excellent!’ As he acknowledged the agreement he had received, the younger Oortelian drew himself back almost defensively; as if anticipating ridicule or derision. ‘Now, please, Thadokta - hear me out before you dismiss what I am about to say - but I want to talk to you about…

'Time Travel!”


	19. Chapter 19

The examination of the control systems inside the Vault’s antechamber had been disappointing, at least from Null’s perspective.

Zoe had done her best, but much of the information she had read out to him was fairly routine. Although the tiny girl claimed that she would be able to operate the keyboards and displays (they weren’t too large for her to handle,) Null had hesitated. All he really needed was an overview of the Vault’s status which, thankfully, Zoe’s search had supplied. Still, he had hoped that there might also be something more immediately useful. {An operator’s manual or instruction book would have been helpful!) Still, he had been reluctant to allow her to meddle with those systems that he did not recognize himself.

“Why not?” Zoe’s response, as Null had come to expect, was straightforward and to the point.

“Because I don’t want to risk setting anything in motion unintentionally, Zoe.”

“That’s hardly likely, is it? With all the safeguards and security measures here, I mean. Someone has obviously gone to a great deal of trouble to make sure that kind of thing can’t happen! Look, Null, I’m not about to just hack my way through these systems - I just want to open some of these screens up to see what they say.”

Null was unable to find any fault with that suggestion so, ignoring the discomfort, he had assisted Zoe to reach those controls that she wished to examine. This too, proved frustrating at first. “It’s no good,’ she had said after her third attempt, ‘I can’t get past the opening screen on this one either! The menus are accessible, but they seem to be in some sort of code. I wish the Doctor was here!” Null, deciding that they were not likely to get any further, had withdrawn his hand from the antechamber and placed the tiny girl on the deck once again.

Although complaining would serve no purpose, Null couldn’t help sighing. “It is a shame that everything in there is too small to be compatible with my wrist comp - that would have made things so much easier!” For some reason, this seemed to interest Zoe, and she had asked him to explain exactly what he meant. He had leaned forward to place the wrist bearing the pad before her, demonstrating as he spoke. “I can access quite a lot of the ships control systems through this. Most of them, actually. Anything that I wish to make a record of, or store locally, I can load into this chip… but I very much doubt that it would fit any of the ports in there, unfortunately.”

To his surprise, Zoe had started to shake her head, looking at it thoughtfully. At her request, Null held out the removed chip for her to examine more closely, and she started to make measuring motions with her hands. “You may well be wrong there, Null! I saw an odd blank area on one of those desks in the chamber. I could see no reason for it at the time, but it could well be intended to receive one of these. I’m pretty sure it would fit… if I can work out how to access it!

‘Well, it’s worth a try at least, don’t you think?”

Null had to agree that he did, and it was with a renewed sense of enthusiasm that he assisted Zoe back into the antechamber.

Naturally, the experiment hadn’t turned out to be quite as easy as it had initially sounded. For a start: the chip, although no larger than one of Null’s thumbnails, proved to be quite an armful for the diminutive Zoe. Then, as she balanced precariously upright in the palm of his hand, Null had to twist his arm into quite an uncomfortable position to reach the desktop that she had selected. With his hand level with the panel’s surface, Zoe had been able to stretch across the desk to examine it more carefully.

Although he didn’t really have the best view of her progress, Zoe had kept up a helpful narrative. “Okay, Null, it looks like I was right about this blank area matching the size of your comp chip, but I can’t see any immediate opening switch. I’m going to put the chip down on your hand so that I can stretch further up the panel.’ And a little later. ‘Right, I think I’ve found it! There is a concealed keypad under here… if I can just lift this away… Got it!

‘Um, I don’t suppose you know the, er… the combination do you, Null?” He had thought for a moment, then slowly enunciated the code with which he had opened the Vault’s door in the first place. He was rewarded with a delighted cry from Zoe. ‘Yes! That’s done it! A panel has just drawn back to show a recess that must be for your chip!’

As she had knelt down on his palm to retrieve the chip, Null found himself warmed by Zoe’s next words. ‘Of course, this must mean that you were always intended to play a part in unsealing the Memories! Think about it, Null - here is a port designed to accept your chip - and you told me that only you had that code! Now then, tell me what I need to do to start the information transfer.” Null explained to her that all she had to do was make sure that the chip was correctly aligned; matching up the male/female nodes with those inside the port. The chip would do everything else, as he wanted a full memory dump - not specific information. It really wasn’t that long before he was able to retrieve the triumphant Zoe, freshly flushed with success, and inform her that they were heading for his flight deck.

It had been the work of mere moments to lock the Vault down again, but Null also took the time to make sure that neither entrance - door or ceiling hatch - into the area could be opened without his personal code. He didn’t honestly think that any intruders would be able to access the relocked Vault, but it would be even better if they were unable to get anywhere near it!

 

As Null carried her back onto the flight deck - where this whole adventure had started for Zoe - she found herself automatically looking into the rear corner. “Hey!’ she yelped in alarm, ‘where’s the Tardis?’ The giant pilot looked a bit confused for a moment, then he smiled broadly down at her. With just a couple of paces he brought her round to see the familiar - and oddly reassuring - sight of the battered blue police box, nestled incongruously in the pilot’s seat. ‘What did you put it there for, Null?” She asked, giving him a look that she hoped conveyed her discomfort at this peculiar circumstance.

Evidently it did, because he looked a little embarrassed as he popped her onto the opposite armrest.   “I am sorry, Zoe, I didn’t know what it was - I was going to examine it more carefully later. I thought it might be… it doesn’t matter what I thought - I shall put it back on the floor!’ Knowing just what was contained inside the paradoxical blue box, Zoe was suitably impressed (and not a little flabbergasted!) when her large friend picked up the Tardis in both hands. Before returning it to the floor he took a moment to examine it once more, then turned a very confused expression her way. ‘This is your spaceship? Where are the engines? And you say three of you travel in it? I’m sorry, Zoe. You are indeed very small, but I would have thought it would be a bit of a squeeze - even for little people like you!”

Zoe rolled her eyes. She didn’t entirely understand the Tardis’ operating principals herself, but she didn’t want Null to know that. “Just put her down carefully please, Null. The Doctor would be most upset if anything happened to his ship - and he is the only one of us that can fly it!” The pilot nodded and carefully set the Tardis down next to a giant space helmet beside the chair. Taking great care not to dislodge Zoe from her armrest, the pilot seated himself; then gently placed her in the crook of his arm, before flicking the switch that brought his seat towards the master control board.

Oddly - despite the bizarre circumstances - given the gentle, almost protective care with which the giant spaceman habitually treated her, Zoe caught herself fighting back tears. She was reminded of times when, as a toddler, she had found the distance yet to travel just too much for her little legs. Her father, that trusted rock of safety and security, had always known just when she needed to be swung up into his arms, or onto his shoulders. The unexpected memory was almost overwhelming but, luckily, Null broke her out of it. “This Doctor, your friend, I take it that you have known him a long time?”

Startled from her reverie, Zoe gave the question serious consideration before answering. “Actually, Null, I haven’t really known him or Jamie very long at all. We’ve practically only just met, but it feels like we have been together forever - I couldn’t tell you why. I just know that I believe in him - he is a very special person - and Jamie would rather die than abandon a friend.” Null regarded her with deep gravity, obviously considering her words very carefully, then he sighed.

“Perhaps it was a mistake to leave your Jamie with the reptile-things, I really can’t say. He sounds like someone I should like to meet, and the Doctor… I find your trust in him deeply moving, and if he is as remarkable as you believe, then I would very much like to solicit his assistance. I promised that we would seek them out, Zoe, and I will keep my word: but please continue to be patient with me - there are one or two things I wish to attend to first. Then we shall find your friends.” He began to reach for his wrist comp, but belatedly realized that his small passenger might be something of an encumbrance in her present location.

Seeing Null dither, Zoe immediately realised his predicament.

To save him the embarrassment of admitting his oversight, she brightly volunteered, “I can sit on the control board if that’s more convenient, Null! I wouldn’t be in your way, would I?” The pilot smiled at her again, surprising Zoe by giving her a grateful wink, so she made her way along his arm to hop onto the tilted surface. At first she thought that she would have to kneel instead of sitting, remembering how close she had come to sliding off before: but then Zoe realized that Null’s tummy - now snugged up against the console - would make a perfect back-rest. By the time she had settled herself comfortably, Null was already slotting the comp-chip into a port in the desk.

“I’m going to copy over the data that you collected for me, Zoe, but we can see just what we have in a moment. First, I want to show you this…’ He tapped at a blank monitor that rose in the center of the board and it blinked into life. It showed a schematic diagram of something, with several scrolling read-outs at the edges of the screen. Before Zoe could begin to read them, Null explained. ‘This was what led me to find you, Zoe. This is the area of my ship where we met, and it shows some damage to the hull structure. This blurry haze must be those reptilian creatures. Apparently their small size confused the shoddy sensors at my disposal.”

“Can you zoom out and see if there are any more of them elsewhere in the ship?” Zoe asked.

“It probably won’t do much good, Zoe, but it can’t hurt to look.’ Null manipulated a few controls, causing the entirety of the ship to be shown, then rotate rapidly to be examined from all angles. Zoe felt as if she was flying around the vessel, but only saw one blinking red light. Even when Null altered the view, so that it looked like they were zooming through a wire-frame ships interior, no alerts were flagged until the magnification returned them to the original view. ‘It’s as I suspected, Zoe. This vessel was just a bulk cargo freighter before being converted, we were told. I think that whatever sensors were retained after it was gutted, well, I expect they were calibrated more for people my size. They are good enough to detect damage to the hull, but not much more than that.”

“Well, if that’s the case,’ Zoe commented, ‘then that blurry effect must be approximating a quite a lot of little life-signs!”

“I believe that you are correct, Zoe,’ agreed the pilot, ‘and it follows that the breach in the hull was their means of entry.”

“Of course!’ exclaimed Zoe excitedly, ‘An airlock! But that means that they are intelligent… sentient… and they must have their own spaceship!” Although she couldn’t actually see Null from where she was seated, Zoe was sure that she detected a hint of guilt in the pilot’s reply.

“Unfortunately, I am forced to agree with you, Zoe. In many ways I regret my hasty actions. However, they are still not welcome on my ship. Instead of them being some strange alien infestation, I must now consider that they are invaders and respond accordingly. Although…’ he hesitated, tapping the screen once more, ‘I am sure that this reading is a little smaller than before. Perhaps they are following my instructions to leave.”

“Leave? But what about Jamie and the Doctor?”

Null was silent for a few moments, then he switched off the screen and retrieved his comp chip. “Perhaps the data can wait a little longer, Zoe. I had intended to just seal off that section of the ship and void the atmosphere originally, but the situation is much too complicated for such a simple solution now. Brace yourself, Zoe.” Before she had time to ask Null to explain himself, Zoe felt herself falling backwards, as the bulwark of his belly disappeared. Luckily she hardly fell any distance at all, as the pilot had already prepared himself to catch her when he activated the seat release.

It was still unexpected, not to mention undignified, so Zoe felt quite within her rights to complain. “You could have given me a little more warning, you know!”

Null apologized as he stood from his seat, then gently dropped her into his former place. “If you could just wait here a moment, Zoe, I want to put my gloves and helmet back on.” Zoe couldn’t help wondering if this was a precaution - in case he decided to vent some atmosphere after all - but she didn’t quite believe he would be so cruel.

Still, she couldn’t restrain herself from asking. “Why do you need them? The air in your ship is perfectly breathable!”

He paused in lowering his helmet into place. “Ah, I can see how this might look! No, Zoe, I have no intention of carrying out my original plan. As skilled a nurse as you have proven to be, I just don’t wish to be shot by those lizard-men again!”

“But you said that they were no worse than insect stings!”

“I don’t deny it, Zoe. But consider this - do you enjoy being stung by insects?”


	20. Chapter 20

It was Specialist Manonkar that alerted Silandor to the odd changes that began to occur in the visi-com feeds from the alien vessel.

The Commander was still observing events in the Enclave’s auditorium, although too deep in his own thoughts to pay more than peripheral attention, when he heard: “Clade Commander, Sir. If you are not monitoring channel five at present, you may wish to do so.” Silandor thanked the man, then switched screens on his personal viewer. He found himself looking at the alien, Jaymee.

He appeared to be sending a personal message to Dokta, recounting events that Silandor himself had personally briefed Dokta on not too long ago. The Commander was a little surprised that someone had shown such foresight and initiative, not to mention sympathy and understanding, for the alien. A quick glance at the identifier code at the bottom of the view told him that Tec-Op Choltz was responsible. Good for her - and it also showed that the woman was comfortable enough to spare some time for the alien. That would seem to suggest that there was no undue urgency in the situation over there. Just to confirm that, he looked up again at the main screen.

Mech-Tec Enteberol’s view was still showing a slow scan of the activity around him. The man had apparently decided to stand well out of the way, so that he could record a wider overview. Conveniently enough, at this very moment he was observing Tec-Op Choltz and Jaymee. They were sitting on the deck near to the air-lock, just beside the various communications arrays that the Tec’s had installed earlier. Although Enteberol was too far away from them to pick up reliable audio, Silandor could hear Jaymee’s words coming clearly from his own screen. He was just about to return his attention to it when someone walked into Enteberol’s view, heading for the couple by the airlock.

She was easily identified by her uniform, even from behind. Palasar was the only Specialist on board the giant’s ship, the only crewmember over there in orange and grey: but there was something different about her… Ah! Now why would the young woman have removed her helmet? Especially considering that she was unaware that her feed was now going no further than the Hub?

Switching his own screen to Palasar’s channel, he discovered a rather uninteresting low-angle view of a pile of equipment. The Clade Commander rubbed his chin thoughtfully, intrigued by this new puzzle.

Allowing his speculations to percolate at the back of his mind, Silandor flipped back to Choltz’ feed, to find himself looking at Palasar’s face as she approached. “I am glad to see that you are getting along so well, but I think we should move further away from the airlock. It is likely to be getting quite busy here soon.” She said. Choltz turned back to focus on Jaymee once more, then her view changed slightly. It appeared that she had stooped a bit lower for some reason. He heard Palasar, now off-screen, say, “Well come on then!”

Jaymee rose and walked off-screen, evidently following the Specialist, but Choltz’ view remained focused on the air-lock his departure had revealed. There were also a couple of silver-wrapped forms just visible at the top of the screen - it didn’t take much imagination to work out what they were.

When Silandor flipped back to Enteberol’s feed, hoping to observe Palasar’s further movements, he found that the man had instead chosen to follow the Patrol First: who was in turn following four very slowly moving troopers. They were carrying two more make-shift body-bags with extreme care, as if handling temperamental explosive devices. As the First shouted for his patrol’s attention, Enteberol obsessively concentrated on the recovery party and their body-bags, but as they passed the coms antennae Silandor noticed something else entirely. A visi-com equipped helmet sitting on the booster array…

A pretty puzzle indeed!

Silandor tuned out the First, giving his soldiers orders to begin debarkation procedures back to the Flame, after nodding his approval of the decision taken. He was much more interested in what Palasar was up to. The young woman had already proven herself to be admirably resourceful, it would not surprise him at all if the Specialist had some ideas of her own. But why did she need Jaymee and, as it now appeared likely, Tec-Op Choltz? Silandor almost hissed with admiration as an audacious thought arrived full-blown in his frontal cortex. Choltz was competent and knowledgeable when it came to communications technology but, more importantly, she also appeared to possess more independent initiative than the more qualified - and experienced - Enteberol. Also, she appeared to have taken an interest in the alien, Jaymee.

Both Dokta and Jaymee had an astonishing grasp of spoken Oortelian. Not only that, but Jaymee could also understand the speech of the giant pseudo-Ancient… if his claim was to be believed. Was it too much of a leap to suppose that Dokta’s other companion, this Zoee that had been taken by the giant being… could she not also possess this remarkable gift for languages?

As the possibilities fired his imagination, Silandor retrieved his communications headset from its concealed compartment in the thrones armrest, already running through the orders that he wished to issue. As he placed the device over his head: adjusting the fit of both the connections to his tympanic membranes, and the speaker-bud hanging before his mouth, the Commander briefly considered the advantages of implantation…

Then dismissed the notion almost immediately.

Silandor’s only fear was loss of control, and for that reason alone he refused to contemplate having cybernetic devices inserted directly into his body. The experts had patiently explained, time and again, that it was a totally beneficial procedure. Cybernetic augmentation was merely the next logical, efficient, step towards interfacing with technology: his phobia was therefore completely irrational. Silandor disagreed, and the matter was dropped with alacrity once he had explained just exactly how much he disagreed.

Having said that, he had no objection to those under his command utilizing the procedure - every advantage was to be embraced - as long as the Clade Commander was not required to have machines implanted in his own head. Silandor much preferred the modified headset that allowed him to contact any augment, simply by speaking the name of the individual required. “Talamane,’ he began, after swapping screens to view the auditorium again, ‘I believe that our guest is a success, and I require your services elsewhere. Our troopers are returning from the alien ship. Get down to the contact craft to greet them, and see that they all join the two that escorted Dokta here. Explain that the lockdown is a security measure ordered by myself, I don’t imagine anyone will object…’

Silandor paused to see if this would get any reaction from his Second Spear, but Talamane was still standing at ease behind, and to one side of, the seated Dokta. Nobody else in the room would have been aware that she was receiving orders from her Commander. ‘I want Mech-Tec Enteberol to do some more work for me, so keep him in the contact craft and inform me of his return, as and when. Don’t worry about briefing Thraxle, I shall do so myself - simply make your excuses and leave. You are authorized to requisition troops to escort the returning patrols to lockdown, but they are not to engage in unnecessary chatter. Please emphasize that. Silandor out.”

Turning his attention to his communications specialist, Silandor was disappointed to see the man stiffen to attention as he heard his Clade Commander speak. “Thraxle. Sub-commander Talamane will shortly be leaving to attend to other matters: you are once more in charge down there. I am authorizing you to communicate with me directly - if it should prove necessary. My call sign is… Egg Thief. Be advised that I will be assigning troops to discretely guard all exits from your location, but they are simply a precaution. However, should their presence become a problem for anyone, refer them to me. I shall personally explain matters to the Honored Elders. Silandor out.”

Satisfied with his instructions so far, the Commander swung his monitor unit aside and stood from his command throne. Taking care not to appear in any way concerned or threatening, he ambled over to the edge of the command deck and leant on its railing. After a casual sweep of the crew manning stations in this section of the trench, all of whom appeared to be going about their duties calmly and diligently, he addressed the man directly beneath him. “Specialist Manonkar, a word…”

 

“One moment… please excuse the interruption, Revelar, I have a question for the Archivist First.’ Mathematician First Thariferon did not introduce himself to the Doctor, other than to offer an apologetic bow, but addressed his colleague instead. ‘Just a point of order, Valmik. Am I to take it that our earlier considerations regarding, ah… information distribution… no longer apply?”

After a moments reflection, Valmik said, “I think we must put such concerns aside now, Thariferon, given the remarkable turn of events. Don’t you?” The Mathematician First nodded his agreement, apparently relieved at this decision, although the Doctor was unable to determine why. (Or, indeed, what the portly old fellow was actually talking about!) He returned his attention to Revelar, as Thariferon offered his apologies again before resuming his seat.

The younger looking Oortelian shook off his surprise at the interruption, then continued speaking. “As I was saying, Thadokta, time travel. Is it possible? Well, of course it is - but only forwards, one one-hundredth of a decad at a time. Each and every one of us travels through time - but only at time’s own pace!

‘At least, that is the conventional wisdom that has held sway for much of our species’ existence! It was only as our people began to venture to other planets within our home system that we began to speculate on… other possibilities. Whilst our scientists and theorists began to make serious academic studies, the Imagineers wove exciting entertainments about travelling to other stars. Perhaps surprisingly, there were often overlaps in the ideas presented: although the Imagineers more often used the Magic Button Principal to expedite their stories…”

“Er, excuse me, Revelar,’ the Doctor interrupted, ‘Magic Button Principle? I’m afraid I am unfamiliar with the term.”

“Ah… Forgive me, Thadokta, perhaps that was a little too flippant,’ Revelar almost seemed embarrassed as he replied, his face suddenly displaying odd coloured patterns. ‘But, nevertheless - an example: How do we travel the incomprehensible distances between stars within a single lifetime - or even a single lunchtime? Easy! We press the magic button!”

“Ha!’ the Doctor barked involuntarily, slapping his thighs in appreciation. ‘Oh yes, I like that, Revelar! Very droll, very amusing indeed! But please continue - I promise I shan’t interrupt again…”

“No, Thadokta, please don’t hesitate! If you have any questions, or should I fail to explain clearly enough at any point. I am trying to get through this fairly quickly, so if I miss anything out - interrupt, I insist! Anyway, the MBP aside, there has always been much cross-pollination between imagination and intellect within the Hegemony. It is a known fact that nothing travels faster than light, but if we could at least approach that speed we would, in effect, be travelling in time, yes?” The Doctor simply nodded to indicate his familiarity with the concept, but chose not to comment - he was most curious to hear the Oortelian approach to the underlying principles of the Universe.

“But again, Thadokta, we would still only be travelling forwards! If we could travel far enough, and fast enough, then in theory we would be able to return to an Oortelia of the far future - as far as we ourselves were concerned - within our own lifetimes! Of course, we are unable to do that, but it is a pretty thought, eh? So: how else could we traverse such distances? Well, we would need to enter a different state of reality perhaps, alternate dimensions of existence where radically different laws apply. Maybe we could find, or create, ‘short-cuts’ through reality. My colleague Dotalane would be pleased to explain our own, somewhat more prosaic, efforts to you later, I’m sure.”

Suddenly Talamane was at the Doctor’s shoulder, almost causing him to jump out of his seat. “That will not be possible, I’m afraid. Information about - and access to - our drive technology is classified, even amongst our own people.’ The Sub-Commander lowered her voice and bent down to speak to him less formally. “My apologies, Thadokta, I’m sure that you understand our caution, and also that no insult is intended to you.’ When he magnanimously waved away her apology, she continued. ‘I must leave now as I am required elsewhere, but Coms-Spec Thraxle will be here to provide any assistance you require. Farewell, for now.”

“And to you, Sub-Commander. Thank you for your most gracious help.”

Turning away, Talamane raised her voice again as she straightened up. “Honored Elders, Fellow Oortelians. As I have just informed Thadokta, I have duties to attend to elsewhere. If you will kindly excuse me, I shall take my leave now: but remember that Thraxle here is available should you have anything… urgent… that you wish the Clade Commander to be made aware of.” Without any further fuss she stepped down from the stage and marched smartly towards an exit.

The Doctor allowed himself a small measure of guilty pleasure, as he noted that the statuesque Oortelian woman was markedly taller than the flustered looking Revelar. However, he relented when he saw that the chap seemed a little lost for words, gently prompting, “So, you were suggesting travelling in other dimensions, Revelar, or something like that?”

“Hmmm?’ The scholar reluctantly drew his gaze from Talamane’s retreating form, then blurted, ‘Oh! Yes, Thadokta, thank you! My point was… Whether we travel through Over-Space, Under-Space, Inter-Space - whatever we choose to call these theoretical nested dimensions - we would still only be able to travel in the same direction as time itself. In practical terms that isn’t really a problem. If any of these states of existence were to enable us to travel to the stars, yet still remain in much the same time-frame; well, that would be wonderful, would it not? Under such circumstances we would be able to explore the galaxy, secure in the knowledge that we can reasonably expect to find our loved ones still alive - our society and civilization not too much changed - upon our return.

‘However.

‘What if we wanted to travel into the past?

‘It’s not there anymore!

‘Oh, I grant that we can still see the light of stars so distant that they may not even exist today: but say we had such unimaginably powerful visualizers that we could see planets orbiting those suns. Let us say we can even see the people that live on any of those planets…

‘We can never communicate with them, we cannot interact with them - they have been dead for millions, perhaps billions of years!

‘So… If we wanted to travel against the flow of time itself - how would we do it, Thadokta?”

Startled out of his fascination by the abrupt question, the Doctor coughed into a fist to disguise his alarm, then cleared his throat loudly. “Hmm… Well, I’m sure I couldn’t say, Revelar, it’s not something I’ve ever really given much thought to.’ (He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, realizing that this was, ironically, closer to the truth than he would have normally admitted.) ‘It’s all incredibly interesting though, so if you have any theories of your own… well, I’m all ears, of course!”

Revelar blinked, a little thrown by that assertion, then dismissed the peculiar mind-picture with a shake of his head. “There is only really one possible solution to the conundrum, Thadokta, however impossible it may seem. If we are to believe that it is possible to flout the laws of reality, to swim against the flow of time: then we must postulate the existence of a non-reality, completely separate from real space/time as we know it.

‘If such a non-place truly existed, and we were able to find a way to enter it, would we not then be outside of time? Outside of space? Certain evidence recovered from various sites leads us to believe that, however improbable, this non-place is at least possible. So what would it actually mean if you were able to gain access? Well, since you would no longer be existing in real time or real space, you would have the potential to exist anywhere in real space/time - should you be able to return.

‘To take that proposal a step further: it could also be argued that - for the span in which you inhabit this non-existent non-reality - you are potentially existing everywhere and everywhen - at the same time! Therefore, if you have the means to control your entrance and exit points, you would now have the ability to go anywhere in time and space! Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

Revelar looked rather sheepishly up at the Doctor, perhaps once more embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. “Well, it’s just a theory, Thadokta.

‘But such a beautiful theory…”


	21. Chapter 21

The Doctor sat there speechless for a moment.

If he had heard Revelar correctly - and he was pretty sure that he had - then the Oortelians had been able to postulate the existence of the Time Vortex, based on little more than a few fragments of… something. (He still wasn’t too clear on just what, exactly!) Oh, it was all very vague and unformed at the moment. Some of the conclusions were wildly inaccurate – probably - and they didn’t appear to seriously consider the ideas to be of any practical value - hopefully. But even so… Even if these were just thought-games to them at the moment: the fact that they were even willing to theorize along these lines - and do it so well - was rather alarming! (And Revelar believed that this could explain the presence of the Tardis inside the other ship? That did not bode well at all…)

Realizing that everyone present was looking at him expectantly, the Doctor cleared his throat before speaking. “Excuse me, Revelar, that’s rather a lot to take in. Hmm… Hmm… Sorry, throat’s a little dry!’ He turned round on his chair to address the Oortelian with a peculiar device attached to the side of his head. ‘I say, old chap, er… Thracksul, was it? Yes, is there any chance of some water?”

“Certainly, Thadokta,’ replied the communications specialist, ‘I shall fetch you some immediately.” He began walking briskly over towards the Oortelian seated by the large globe, who was already reaching underneath his desk.

“Oh, that is splendid!’ The Doctor enthused, rapidly rising from his own chair, intending to rendezvous with both the Oortelians by the globe, ‘but no need to go to any trouble - I could do with stretching my legs a bit now, actually!’ At his approach, Thraxle handed the Doctor a small silver flask - about the size of a fizzy pop can. He thanked the Oortelian profusely, pretended to have some difficulty opening the flask; then murmured, as quietly as he could. ‘Please tell the Clade Commander that I would like to see him at his earliest convenience, if you would be so kind…” He then let out a cry of triumph as he unsealed the lid of the water-flask, and made a great show of exaggerated enjoyment as he drank.

“Happy to help you, Thadokta.” Coms-Spec Thraxle said, as he escorted his small charge back to his chair.

Before sitting down, the Doctor did a few energetic knee-bends, and then some brisk jogging on the spot: as if getting ready to run a marathon. Finally seating himself, he explained. “Sorry about the interruption everybody, I find myself stiffening up if I sit still for too long - got to keep the old circulation going, eh?’ He clapped his hands and leaned forward to indicate that his complete and total attention was once more available. “Now then, Revelar, old chap! Where were we again?”

The young theorist, who had been exchanging mystified glances with others in the audience - also perplexed by the antics of their guest - looked a little pained at having to repeat himself, but gamely soldiered on. “I was asking what your thoughts might be regarding the possibility of travelling through time and space, by travelling outside of time and space, Thadokta. I am sure everyone present will be interested in the opinions of an, er… Forgive me - an outsider - on the matter.”

“Ah yes! Of course!’ the Doctor beamed enthusiastically, then swiftly clapped a hand over his mouth as his eyes went impossibly wide. ‘I do beg your pardon,’ he mumbled as he slowly lowered his hand, wiping the grin from his face, ‘No offense intended, I assure you!’ Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, the Doctor pondered. ‘It’s certainly something to think about isn’t it? Although, to be honest, I still like your ‘magic button’ idea. I mean, when you consider it: any kind of magic - no matter how impossible it may sound - could be presented as advanced technology… If you give it a suitably scientific sounding name!” He looked around at the faces in the audience, hoping for some hint of agreement - not a sausage.

Sighing discreetly, the Doctor admitted to himself that obfuscation was unlikely to work in present company, so he chose a different tack: playing for time. “To be honest, Revelar, as much as I find your ideas fascinating, I don’t really feel that I am qualified to comment. I believe that there are some details that need a little more clarification before I could possibly offer an opinion.”

Revelar looked stricken. “Of course, Thadokta, I did state that I was rushing things a little! My apologies! Please ask any questions that you need to. If I am unable to provide a satisfactory answer myself, I am sure that one of my esteemed colleagues will be pleased to step in!”

“That is most kind, Revelar, you have my thanks. Well… I am still not entirely sure just what the Oortelian people discovered on Indigo, and elsewhere; or how those discoveries led to the concepts that you have just presented.’ He held up his hand to politely request that he be allowed to continue, before anyone could actually begin to answer. ‘But what really concerns me most at the moment is that rather large vessel my friends and I found ourselves stranded on. You have stated that it appears to have some influence on, or interaction with, time. Now, as I am sure that everyone here will appreciate, my over-riding concern at the moment is to be re-united with my companions. It would also be quite nice if we were able to just get back into our ship and, well… be on our way… if at all possible.

‘It has been mentioned that you have some recordings to support this, er… temporal anomaly claim. Is there any chance that I could see them, while you explain to me exactly what you believe to be happening? I really would find it most helpful…”

 

Although he found his attention constantly being drawn back to the sad group of silver parcels, each laid out with a neat military precision: Mech-Tec Enteberol had felt a little morsel of relief when the First had issued instructions to begin the evacuation back to Indigo Flame.

He was nurturing that morsel determinedly, while observing the calm and quiet discipline displayed by the troopers, as they began to exit this accursed Ship of The Ancients by two’s and three’s. Nobody else seemed to be experiencing the gut-curdling terror that Enteberol had been struggling to contain ever since seeing the giant alien.

He had noted the First departing but paid him no heed.

Nobody had given Enteberol any specific instructions, and he certainly wasn’t about to volunteer for anything, particularly if it meant leaving the vicinity of the airlock! As he cast about for some busywork that might make him look suitably occupied, his gaze was inevitably drawn back to the bodies - then something else caught his eye. A visi-com equipped helmet abandoned near the other equipment. This reminded him of something else and, sure enough, when he checked, he found another helmet on top of the booster array.

These were expensive bits of kit!

Keeping out of the way of the busy troopers, Enteberol worked his way around to the equipment cache and retrieved that helmet, then returned to place it with the other. Checking them both over thoroughly, the Mech-Tec discovered that each was in perfect working order. There was no valid reason for them to have been discarded! At least, none that he could see. As he puzzled over this for a while, desperate to keep his mind occupied - to keep the shaking fear at bay - he heard a shout.

“Q! Fancy meeting you here! Glad to see you looking so well!” This cry stood out starkly in the somber silence, and Enteberol swung around to see another Ghost First rapidly approaching his own. Enteberol noticed some of the troopers also swing round to look at the newcomer, then turn back to their own tasks somewhat dismissively. Glancing at the body-bags again before he could stop himself, Enteberol suspected that he might have some inkling of what they were thinking. When he turned his attention back to the group over by the far wall, he witnessed both First’s engaged in an apparently frosty conversation. A little distance from them he could see the other, more reasonably sized alien, and two females.

He recognized Choltz and that Specialist, Palasar, immediately. Neither were wearing their helmets. One mystery solved, at least. For a moment Enteberol wondered if he should go closer to visi the discussion for the record, or maybe return the women’s helmets, but quickly decided that it was none of his business. What his business was… what his business was… of course! As senior Mech-Tec present, it was his business to double-check all the feeds and linkages, all the hardware and software, of the equipment that he and Choltz had so painstakingly installed! Feeling perfectly justified in his self-assigned task, Enteberol set about looking busy, only occasionally looking around to see what else was going on.

A short time later he was startled to see that another group of troopers, the mysterious second patrol, had joined them. He hadn’t heard them arrive! His attention was drawn by a female Second - he recognized the rank, if not the woman herself - as she spoke to one of his team. “I thank your patrol for treating our dead with such respect, Trooper,’ she was saying, ‘but we will see to them now. You need not assign anyone to carry them back to our ship.” As the Second was talking, the trooper was accompanying her to stand by the four bodies, so her voice became difficult to hear.

When the trooper began to explain something to her, indicating two particular body-bags, Enteberol was unable to make his words out at all. The newcomer looked a little taken aback at whatever the soldier had told her. She knelt down by nearest foil-wrapped corpse and seemed about to touch it, but then she withdrew her hand reluctantly and, giving the trooper a stiff nod, rose and strode off to speak to her own troops. Enteberol put the sad scene out of his thoughts, and began to remove the access panel to the booster array. It was comforting to work on something that he was so familiar with, and Enteberol soon managed to immerse himself in the complexities of his work. It was not really possible - or advisable, he thought - to completely dismiss the threat that he imagined he could feel drawing ever closer; but he did manage to relax a little. Concentrating on every minute detail of the arrays innards, Enteberol managed to control the tremors that had slowly been building up in his hands.

Even so, every now and then he chanced a nervous glance towards the huge portal, looming at the end of the corridor. If it so much as gave a hint of opening again, he fully intended to be the next into the airlock - no matter who might be in his way!

 

The new arrival had been introduced to them as Ghost First Faramandar, and apparently he was now in command of the mission.

Specialist Third Palasar couldn’t know for sure, of course, but she imagined that both Choltz and Jay-Mee felt as uncomfortable about that as she did herself. It was a struggle to control her impatience as First - her own First - gave the stern looking man an overview of recent events. Although his presentation was clipped and concise, to Palasar it seemed to take forever, but this was probably due to her own urgent desire to find out how this ‘Faramandar’ would react to her plan.

However, when the man eventually addressed her, she almost wished that First had taken longer.

“Specialist Third Palasar, I am informed that you have a proposal to make,’ Faramandar said, briskly, ‘and that it may require the services of some of my troops.”

“That is correct, Sir!’ Palasar replied firmly, projecting as much confidence as she could muster, ‘I would need three, maybe four soldiers with communications augments to stay on the ship with us to…”

“Wait! Wait…’ the intimidating officer interrupted, holding up a hand for quiet. He switched his brooding gaze to Tec-Op Choltz for a moment, then returned to studying Palasar. ‘Neither of you are wearing visi-com devices. I was informed that your party would be so equipped.’ Palasar made to reply, but he made that slamming ‘halt’ gesture with his hand again, speaking over her. ‘I will hear your proposal in detail, Specialist, and as ranking officer I will make whatever decision I deem appropriate. However… I want the Clade Commander to hear it as well. I trust that this will not prove to be a problem?”

Before Palasar could reply, Choltz - who had been looking back to where she had left her own helmet - volunteered: “Sir! Mech-Tec Enteberol has our helmets, I can go and fetch mine if you like.”

Faramandar followed her pointing finger and saw a man, also wearing the required visi-com unit himself, so shook his head. “No need. Just call him over.”

The Mech-Tec looked rather startled when he heard Choltz’ shout, “Enteberol! Come over here!” He glanced at the group with something approaching alarm, then reluctantly stood to approach them. Almost as an afterthought he scooped up two extra helmets and brought them along. Faramandar watched curiously as Enteberol arrived and handed the helmets to the two women, then turned about, as if to leave. The man hadn’t even acknowledged him!

“Mech-Tec Enteberol,’ Faramandar intoned in a deceptively calm voice, laced with an icy chill of fury, ‘where exactly do you think you are going?” Even Jamie, who had been feeling pretty left out of things for a while, found himself unnerved by the silky smooth delivery of the question. The effect on the poor Enteberol chap was even more electric than the hairs standing up on the young Scotsman’s arms!

Stiffening to attention, as if someone had just dropped snow down the back of his shirt, the man slowly pivoted round to face the officer. (Jamie could almost picture him standing on top of Polly’s ‘record player’ thingy!) When he was fully facing Faramandar, the Mech-Tec swallowed, and choked out, “My apologies, Sir! I was under the impression that my work-partner, Tec-Op Choltz, was requesting the return of her helmet. I also took the liberty of bringing along Specialist Third Palasar’s at the same time. I am sorry if that was presumptuous, Sir.”

“What is presumptuous, you spineless worm, is turning your back on a superior officer without waiting to see if he has anything to say to you!’ Faramandar held the Mech-Tec’s gaze a moment longer, flicked a look of mock disbelief at Q, and then tilted his head to frown at the two females. Both stood clutching their helmets, unsure whether they were to resume wearing them or not. “Leaving aside the question of why these two took it upon themselves to cease recording their observations,’ Faramandar mused, as if to himself, before glaring once more at his victim of choice, ‘I only actually require one visi-com operator to make a record here.’ As the (really) scary lizard-man leant towards the clearly terrified Enteberol, Jamie was half convinced that it intended to bite the poor lad’s throat out.

But, straining really, really hard, he just managed to make out Faramandar murmuring, ‘You just volunteered.”

 

As Palasar began her presentation, Jamie (very carefully!) placed the helmets that she and Choltz had surreptitiously passed to him, mere moments ago, onto the deck.

He was still listening to her intently, of course, and intended to make sure that a certain young Highlander was going to be included in whatever plan she had cooked up. “It is really a very simple suggestion, Sir,’ she was saying to the big bruiser that had taken command, ‘I think that it may be possible to establish a dialogue with the, ah… with the pilot of this vessel, if we adopt a more cautious approach. I am hoping that the loss of your troopers was just a tragic misunderstanding: it would be even more of a tragedy if we were to simply leave, without even attempting to make it right.”

“Address the Clade Commander, Specialist.” The large man interrupted, indicating the hapless Enteberol standing a short distance away. Jamie realized that the ‘Mech-Tec’ had positioned himself so as to ‘visi’ the whole group. He didn’t look any too happy to Jamie, but apparently he had seriously annoyed this Faramandar person. Palasar smoothly complied with the instruction, somehow managing to snag a surprised Scotsman by the arm, bringing him alongside her.

“My friend, Jay-Mee, can speak the language of the giant, Sir…”

Apparently not having heard about this before, Faramandar butted in again, looming over Jamie. “Is this true?” He asked in an amazed breath.

“Aye, it is!’ Jamie responded, finding himself annoyed even as he admitted to himself that it was a reasonable enough question, given the circumstances. ‘I mind well enough what that bawheid spaceman said!’ And that was true. Jamie had spent some time wracking his brain to remember what the giant had actually shouted at them and, although he still could not be sure he had the exact words straight, he felt confident enough to turn away from Faramandar, instead speaking towards Enteberol. “He wisnae too pleased to find you folks on his ship, or me for that matter.

‘But I think Palasar is right - he didnae really seem to want to hurt any more people - he gave us a warning that everyone should get off his ship. True enough, he did threaten to come back and destroy anyone that was still here when he returned, but…” Jamie trailed off uncertainly, suddenly aware that this was unlikely to advance his efforts to seek out Zoe.

Coming to his rescue, Palasar continued swiftly, “But my point, Clade Commander, is that Jay-Mee did understand - and the pilot was reacting to what must have seemed to be an invasion, from his perspective. I do not believe that any of us would still be alive over here had he chosen to attack. Instead we were warned, and given time to leave. That seems… promising. If we evacuate the majority of our people back to the Flame, perhaps a much smaller party may succeed in making a more positive contact.” As she paused to collect her thoughts, Jamie tapped her on the arm and tilted his head enquiringly at Enteberol, clearly wishing to say something more.

When Palasar nodded quickly in response, Jamie put himself forward again. “Doctor! If you are over there with this Clade Commander right now, convince him that we have to find Zoe! I’m not sure what Palasar’s thinking is just yet, but if yon Commander disnae wish to risk any of his own folk - I will go look for her alone. Explain that we can probably both speak to the big fella in his own language… and please get back over here if you can, Doctor.”

“Thank you, Jay-Mee,’ Palasar said as she took over from a very determined looking young Highlander, ‘although I would prefer to present my own case before you go volunteering for any solo missions - if you don’t mind!’ Jamie stepped away looking slightly abashed. Up until now, Palasar had only had a vaguely formed desire to make contact with the anomalous ‘Ancient’, but a more coherent proposal had just seemed to fall into place as she had listened to Jay-Mee speaking. ‘Clade Commander Silandor, Ghost First Faramandar, Sirs… I would like to accompany Jay-Mee to find his friend, Zo-Eee. If, as we think, she is still with the pilot, then she has been in his company for some while… It does not seem unreasonable to imagine that they have learned a little, at least, about each other in that time.

‘We would be accompanied by one - unarmed - trooper with the ability to communicate back to this location.’ Palasar paused and turned to Faramandar for a moment. ‘I don’t know how well the implanted technology works on this ship, Sir. I am just going to outline the minimum number of troops that may be needed to do the job.’ At his nod of understanding, she continued. ‘I think we only actually need one other augmented trooper on the ship - to stay by the booster array with Tec-Op Choltz. It will be her job to find a way of relaying reports of our progress - maybe the trooper can simply repeat our messages to Choltz, who is visi-com equipped.

‘Somewhat more problematic, however, is our inability to receive orders from yourself, Commander. My solution may sound laughable in its crudity, but maybe the simplest approach will work best. We station another trooper inside the airlock.

Then your orders can be conveyed from someone stationed inside the contact craft. Perhaps Mech-Tec Enteberol would prove useful there, as he is even more familiar with our equipment than Choltz, and could perhaps provide additional technical suggestions. So what do you think, Ghost First Faramandar?” She turned to see the man stroking unsheathed claws across his jaw, deep in thought.

Abruptly he fixed her with an intense stare, replying, “I think you are onto something there, Specialist.’ He turned to speak towards Enteberol, who had only just managed to restrain himself from nodding enthusiastically at Palasar’s words; by rigidly standing at attention. “Clade Commander, I am taking it on my own authority to explore the viability of this option. The evacuation proceeds apace, yet our communications augments remain untested over any distance within this vessel at present. I shall implement said testing while the majority of our troops evacuate. That should give you plenty of time to countermand my orders, Sir, if that is your decision. Faramandar out.

‘…Specialist, do nothing without my direct say so.

‘Mech-Tec, you are with me.”

Jamie exchanged a cautiously optimistic glance with Palasar, as Faramandar led the quaking Enteberol back towards the airlock.

“That went better than I had anticipated.” Murmured First, as he left to check on his own troops.

Choltz just found herself sitting on the deck, and she could not have explained why, even if anyone had asked her.


	22. Chapter 22

An alarming thought suddenly struck Zoe, and she shouted, “Wait a minute, Null!’ as the now fully suited space pilot reached for her. 

She had fallen into the habit of considering the projectiles fired from the lizard-men’s weapons to be small, simply because they were - at least in comparison to Null’s huge frame. To Zoe herself they would present considerably more danger, being about the size of her little finger, from tip to second knuckle. ‘Now that you mention it, those ‘insect stings’ would do considerably more damage to me than to you, don’t you think?” Null froze for a moment as he looked down at her. Maybe he had only just recognised the veracity of her words, but it was hard to tell now that Zoe could no longer see his face.

The faceplate of his helmet had a reflective golden sheen to it. As he knelt down beside the seat she was standing on, all Zoe could see was herself - slightly distorted - framed by a curving background. Presumably Null could see quite clearly, but Zoe didn’t like it. Without a recognisable face to focus on, the pilot seemed much more frightening, much more alien: and so very, very big. But his voice was still kind as his blank visage regarded her. “My apologies, Zoe. I hadn’t given any thought to that, I’m afraid. When they first attacked, I shielded you with my own body, but you were unconscious or in a trance then, and the possibility of communicating further with them simply didn’t occur to me. I suppose it would be a little difficult for you to talk to anyone if I’m holding you behind my back, eh?”

Smiling in response to the self-deprecating humour in the pilot’s voice, Zoe agreed whole-heartedly. “Although I’m not saying that they will automatically turn out to be hostile, Null, don’t get me wrong. From what you told me, I get the feeling that things were very, um… unplanned, back then. I just think that it may be a good idea to take some precautions, just in case anyone panics or something!’ Zoe felt frustrated as she spoke to her own golden-hued reflection, and at a loss when Null didn’t reply immediately.

He could have been nodding, or perhaps mulling some ideas over - he could even have fallen asleep for all she could tell! ‘Um, Null, is there any chance that you could take your helmet off until we actually reach the others? I prefer to see who I’m talking to, usually…” She asked plaintively.

Null jerked back, then startled Zoe with a burst of laughter. Although she didn’t see how he did it, the mirror effect rose rapidly upwards inside his faceplate, and Zoe found herself greeted by a rueful smile. “It seems that I am becoming increasingly forgetful, Zoe! I could see you perfectly well, so I didn’t even realise that my screen was down, sorry.’ He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Actually, I was just wondering if you might fit in my sleeve pocket, in the event that you need protection. The material of my suit appears to be impervious to those projectiles…” He patted his upper arm and raised an eyebrow enquiringly.

Zoe regarded the fairly large flap of material somewhat dubiously. She supposed that it might be possible for her to squeeze inside - if the fabric was very flexible - but it certainly wouldn’t be comfortable! “Let’s call that a back-up plan, shall we?’ She suggested brightly, although not entirely sure that she liked the idea. ‘Hopefully it won’t come to that, and we will be able to talk to them reasonably. Um… Have you given any thought as to how we can go about approaching them?’ Null reluctantly admitted that he hadn’t, not really, so Zoe offered her own suggestion. ‘Well, I think that Jamie, the Doctor, and I should act as go-betweens, or mediators if you prefer. If the boys are with the lizard-people, all well and good - I’m sure that they will be able to speak to them. If they’ve been taken over to their ship… Well, I’m not one hundred percent certain, but I think that I may able to understand their language as well: but I would prefer it if my friends were returned here, obviously!”

The giant pilot agreed that this seemed to be a workable approach, not having any better ideas himself, but added a couple of provisos. “Don’t worry, Zoe. I shall make it a condition of any negotiations that you are reunited with your friends, if they are not already present. I would like to return you all to your blue box, if I can. Also, once we set out I shall reactivate my visor-screen. Those little lizards seemed to find my appearance rather alarming!”

Zoe privately thought that this reaction may have had more to do with Null’s sheer size - rather than his facial features - but forbore to make any comment as he offered his arm to her once more. As she clambered aboard in as dignified a manner as possible, Zoe commented hopefully. “Well, I will be very pleased to see the Doctor and Jamie again, and there really is no time like the present, I suppose, but…’ She paused as she gripped his suit’s fabric for balance. ‘Could I just practice getting in and out of this pocket a few times first, Null? Just in case!”

 

On his personal monitor scsreen, Clade Commander Silandor finished watching Palasar’s presentation, nodding thoughtfully.

The young woman had obviously given it a great deal of thought, and her proposal was remarkably similar to what he had anticipated. Silandor would not be countermanding his nest-brother’s decision to proceed. In fact, as soon as all of his own preparations were in place, the Commander would be able to confirm Faramandar’s orders. He also felt that Jaymee’s petition merited serious consideration - Dokta would indeed be of much more use over there, he was now sure.

Switching over to the view from the enclave’s auditorium, Silandor observed the scene thoughtfully as he pondered his options. On the Visi-Sphere, a recording of Pilot Second Tomovol’s original flight to survey the anomalous Ship was playing. It was obvious that Dokta had requested to see it, from the way that various intellectuals were explaining just what was occurring. Silandor dialed down the sound - he had no interest in hearing all this yet again - then glanced up at the main viewer to confirm that the evacuation was proceeding apace. From the look of things, Mech-Tec Enteberol would soon be returning to the contact craft. Good. “Talamane,’ the Commander spoke into his headset’s speaker-bud, ‘I intend to send Thadokta back down to you shortly. Report your status.”

The Second Spear’s voice came back instantly. “All is well, Sir. The returning troopers are very subdued, but everyone is co-operating as expected. There is the anticipated bottleneck due to the airlock recycling process, but I do not foresee any undue delays, Commander.”

“Satisfactory.’ Silandor grunted, ‘Two things: Mech-Tec Enteberol will probably return before Thadokta arrives your location - have him contact me through a secure channel immediately. I will leave it to you to ensure that Thadokta is given priority use of the airlock, to return to the alien vessel. The interruption to the evacuation is on my authority, any delay my responsibility. Silandor out.” He directed his attention back to his own screen, where Dokta appeared to be getting quite excited, or at least animated - it was so difficult to read the little alien! Silandor reactivated the sound and leaned down to listen.

“You mean’, Dokta was saying, waving an arm towards the Visi-Sphere, ‘that this actually happened? It wasn’t just that the pilot decided to slow the shuttle down for some reason?”

“According to the information we have been drip-fed’, came the sardonic response from Archivist First Valmik, ‘the crew were completely unaware that they had been away any longer than the projected mission time.”

“How very interesting…’ Dokta mused, ‘and, of course, rather disturbing in many ways. Whatever made you decide to approach any closer, knowing that this… this time disturbance was occurring?”

“We did not decide, Thadokta, we were not consulted…”

Tuning out the sound again, the Clade Commander dismissed Valmik’s vexed sniping as a distraction - one that he didn’t need right now. “Thraxle.’ Silandor intoned. ‘The request that you conveyed on Dokta’s behalf has been considered and approved. Do not take any immediate action, there is a little preparation to be completed first. Stand by for my instructions. Silandor out.” He immediately switched channels to contact the troopers stationed at all of the auditorium’s exits, and gave them almost similar orders, with only some minor - but very important - variations. Once satisfied that his intentions had been fully understood, Silandor signed off and removed his headset, replacing it in the armrest compartment.  He swung aside his monitor screen and casually left the command deck.

“Specialist Manonkar,’ Silandor announced himself as he arrived at the rail above the man’s position. ‘How are you getting on with that project we discussed a little while ago?” Not waiting for a reply he swung himself under the rail to drop down beside the specialist.

If Manonkar was surprised to find his Commander actually in the trench with him, he hid it admirably. “Very well, Sir. I can show you some of the edited footage right now, if you wish, Commander.”

“No, that won’t be necessary, Specialist. I had originally intended to play your, ah… modified footage if our Honoured Elders became fractious, but Thadokta has proven himself to be an excellent diversion. No, what I want from you now is something a little more specific. Call up the latest from Mech-Tec Enteberol’s Visi-Com - Channel Three, I think - and I shall explain what I need from you.”

 

The Doctor was becoming increasingly concerned by the evidence being presented to him.

If these Oortelian scientists and thinkers were to be believed - and he saw no reason to doubt them - then they were describing a most unusual phenomenon. Apparently time itself was passing at a different rate within a certain vicinity of the huge Ship. He couldn’t recall ever having encountered anything quite like this in his travels thus far. “So let me see if I am understanding you correctly, my friends,’ he said, clasping his hands together as he turned to include various members in his perusal. ‘You believe that, because of this temporal, er… oddness… You believe that vessel over there to be your legendary ‘Ship of The Ancients’, yes?”

“It cannot be anything else, Thadokta!’ shouted Revelar, before anyone else could reply. “Given the vast age of the Ancients, the only way one of their ships could have survived to the present day is to utilize temporal displacement. We are clearly witnessing just such a time disturbance here, so the obvious conclusion is that this is, indeed, what we claim!”

The Doctor frowned as he tried to work his way around that, then coughed in an apologetic fashion. “Um… Please forgive me Revelar, but that seems rather tautological to me… circular reasoning that I would not expect from someone as…”

Suddenly a voice spoke over him from behind. “Please excuse the interruption, Thadokta, but I have just received some important news! The Clade Commander wishes it to be brought to everyone’s attention.’ Com-Tec Thraxle moved up beside the Doctor as he spoke, and began to explain to the audience. ‘As you may recall, we have been having problems with the feed from Specialist Palasar - Mech-Tec Enteberol has been having more difficulty with it than anticipated. However, we are now getting some partials.”

He instructed Imanol to access the view from Palasar’s visi-com, and the recorded view of the shuttle’s journey was replaced by static, and an unpleasant humming sound. Now and again a clearer view stuttered out of this interference, and the Doctor could just make out the young female that he had first encountered. She was in conversation with a much bigger - and rather militant looking - Oortelian: and just behind them he could see…

“Jamie!” He cried involuntarily, then felt rather embarrassed, knowing that the lad couldn’t hear him.

Sounding rather irritated, Archivist First Valmik asked, “If that Specialist is on the screen, then obviously someone else over there has a visi-com unit! Why was their view not presented when her own device failed?”

“If you study the Visi-Sphere display carefully, Sir, you will see that Specialist Palasar is not wearing her helmet. The Mech-Tec is now wearing it whilst effecting repairs.” Although he was very polite, Thraxle was unable to completely disguise his own irritation. He was about to apologise for the poor sound quality, hoping to forestall any further complaints, when there was a sharp ‘click!’ and both sound and vision cleared to normal. The view now showed the large soldier waving a hand towards the audience.

“Address the Clade Commander, Specialist.” Palasar acknowledged her superior officer and, after grabbing Jamie by the arm, she turned to face the viewer directly.  She had quite a firm grip on the surprised looking Highlander’s bicep as she introduced him.

“My friend, Jay-Mee, can speak, Sir…”

The large Oortelian, easily as big as the Clade Commander himself, the Doctor noted, seemed surprised to hear that. He towered over Jamie and demanded. “Is this true?”

“Aye, it is!” replied the tousle-haired youth - somewhat indignantly, if the Doctor was any judge.

The view now focused squarely on Jamie’s urgent face as he said. “Doctor! If you are over there with this Clade Commander right now, convince him that we have to find Zoe! I’m not sure what Palasar’s thinking is just yet, but if yon Commander disnae wish to risk any of his own folk - I will go look for her on my own… and please get back over here if you can, Doctor.”

“Thank you, Jay-Mee,’ said the female Oortelian, brushing the lad aside, ‘although I would prefer to present my own case before you go volunteering for any solo missions - if you don’t mind!’ Jamie stepped away looking slightly abashed. The Doctor almost smiled at this - that boy always seemed to get into trouble with the ladies. (Even when they were very strong alien lizard-ladies!) The girl looked straight (or so it seemed) at him, and said. ‘Clade Commander Silandor, Ghost First Faramandar, Sirs… I would like to accompany Jay-Mee to find his friend, Zo-Eee…” Then, without any warning at all, the Visi-Sphere went blank again.

“What happened?” The Doctor cried in alarm, turning to Thraxle and grabbing his arms.

The Com-Tec brushed him off firmly. “I should think that would be obvious, Thadokta! The link has failed again… No doubt Enteberol will have it back up as soon as he can.”

“Fiddlesticks to the link, man!’ The Doctor shouted, almost hopping up and down in agitation, ‘I mean what has happened to Zoe? Is there any more news?”

The Oortelian managed to look uncomfortable at this, offering only a shrug. “I’m sorry, Thadokta, I do not have that information. Perhaps they were about to explain when the feed went down. I can only…

‘Wait one…’ he interrupted himself, cocking his head to one side. While the man listened to the voice in his head, the Doctor shuffled impatiently; unconsciously wringing his hands, and totally ignoring the gathered enclaves. After what seemed an age - but was probably only a few moments - Thraxle spoke again. ‘The Clade Commander is having troops sent to escort you back to our contact craft. He feels that it would be unjust to keep you from your companions, if one of them has met with any difficulty. I am, however, authorised to assure you that none of our people would see any harm come to your Zoee.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose,’ the Doctor grumped, too overcome with concern to worry about sounding ungrateful. ‘Do you have any idea how long it will be before they get here?”

He received no reply, as Thraxle was now attempting to explain matters again, to everyone else in the auditorium.

 

“Commander Silandor sends his apologies, Thadokta - for not meeting you, of course - but more importantly: for being unable to give you any further information. Not within earshot of the enclave’s, anyway.’

This was how Sub-Commander Talamane greeted the Doctor when he arrived back at the airlock leading to the other vessel. ‘But please allow me to assure you that, as far as we know, no harm has come to your friend, Zoee. I myself witnessed her being abducted by… by the pilot of the Ship. I cannot say for certain, but I did not personally get the impression that he intended to hurt her.”

The Doctor did not find this entirely reassuring, although he did appreciate the woman’s attempt, so he was able to ask quite calmly. “I am led to believe that I will be permitted to return to the other ship, Sub-Commander. If this is the case, is there any chance that you could expedite that circumstance with haste? I really am most anxious to find out what is happening for myself, you see.” He was still feeling a little flustered by his second mad dash through Silandor’s ship, and he was also a tad concerned by the way things had played out back at the auditorium.

Naturally enough, many of the people he had been talking with were, well… ‘Disappointed’ was a polite way of putting it - to lose ‘Thadokta’ so soon: but they had also been gratifyingly supportive. Everyone said that they fully understood his concern for his companions, and there was no real dissention regarding his departure. However, Valmik - for one - had seemed keen to make some advantage out of the situation. “In fact, Thadokta, this would appear to be the perfect opportunity for some of us scholars to offer you our assistance! Perhaps a few of us should come with you.” He had suggested.

Thraxle was swift to veto that suggestion, insisting that the Clade Commander had made it very clear that no members of the enclaves were to board the alien vessel, until he could guarantee their safety. He then had to backtrack rapidly to reassure the Doctor that Zoe was ‘probably’ safe…

“But surely at least one of us must be allowed to accept the risks!’ This was Revelar. ‘I am more than willing to take my chances - I am less important than most of the other representatives, and the opportunity to confirm my theories is worth more than life to me!” This gave the Doctor a funny turn, as he certainly didn’t want this particular Oortelian anywhere remotely near the Tardis. But still, he had been very surprised when all the entry portals to the amphitheater-like room had opened simultaneously, disgorging armed troopers!

Naturally, Archivist First Valmik had been enraged by the implicit threat displayed. In fact, most of the intellectuals assembled had been angered, rather than intimidated. It was not without some genuine remorse - and perhaps just a pang of guilt - that the Doctor had allowed himself to be escorted away from the ensuing arguments.

Now he found himself with more time to examine the interior of this ‘Contact Craft’ than his previous frog-marched visit - but ironically found himself in a hurry to leave! “When will I be able board the other ship, Sub-Commander?” He asked as he examined the - rather crude looking, if he was being honest - airlock that had been constructed by the Oortelian work crews.

“It should not be too long, Thadokta. We just have to wait for the next couple of troopers to cycle through. Then you will have priority, as per Commander Silandor’s orders.” She replied.

The Doctor looked at her in surprise on hearing that. “You are still going through the air-lock cycling procedure?’ He halted her as she began to reply. “No, don’t answer that… bit of a silly question really, I was just surprised. Look, my dear - er, sorry, I meant Sub-Commander - do correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t this entire contact craft of yours essentially a multi-leveled system of airlocks?”

“I suppose one could describe it so, but I don’t…”

“Well, that being the case, consider this: You know that the atmosphere contained within the other vessel is compatible with your own. Why not simply leave both doors to this particular lock open, then this entire level could be used as one big airlock? Your people could then be evacuated faster, could they not?”

Talamane looked as if she had suddenly become frozen in time as she stared at him.

The Doctor was tempted to wave a hand in front of her face to check, but then she blinked rapidly a couple of times and nodded. “I suppose that may be possible. I shall have to recall the Tecs that installed it - to disengage any safety over-rides. I am summoning them now. I must confess, Thadokta, I am a little embarrassed that this approach did not occur to me. It’s so obvious when somebody else suggests it!’ She paused for a moment as a thought struck her. ‘I heard one of the crew say something about some disorientation being possible for those passing through - something about being upside-down or… something?”

“Oh, that is simply a matter of perspective, Talamane! Now, one may be aware that each vessel is ‘the wrong way up’ - or something - but there isn’t actually any physical discontinuity: at least, not that I noticed myself. All one really has to do - whichever side of the opening one happens to be on is - well, just convince yourself that you are climbing up, my dear, even if the door is on the floor! Do you see?” He stepped back with wide-spread arms and flashed her his trademark grin... Then clapped a hand over his mouth and mumbled an apology! Fortunately the female officer took no offense, and just then the airlock door swung upwards as two more troopers made their exit from the larger ship.

As the first evacuee climbed up from the lock, Talamane helped her aside and instructed the other soldier to remain where he was. “I want you to escort Thadokta back through with you, Trooper,’ she told him, ‘then explain to the officer in charge that we have an idea to speed up the process, on my authority.’ She then turned to the Docter, inviting him to enter the airlock. ‘Perhaps you would be kind enough to pass on the details, Thadokta, whilst I set them in motion. I wish you well.”

Returning her well wishes, the Doctor lowered himself into the lock, then turned back as a thought occurred. “Actually, Sub-Commander, would you mind if I took a little look at the other door myself? With this one still open?”

“Whatever for, Thadokta?”

“Well, I do have a little prior experience with, er… getting in and out of places, here and there… Perhaps I may be able to…”

“No matter, Thadokta,’ Talamane interrupted, ‘although I appreciate the offer, my Tec’s are on the way as we speak. I would prefer that they deal with this, and that those on the other side received some warning of our intentions.”

Looking a little relieved, the Doctor accepted with grace. “Of course, my dear, of course. I must confess, I would prefer to get back over there sooner rather than later. I shall be pleased to convey your message.” If he had intended to say anything further, it was cut off as the trooper lowered the hatch, and Talamane turned away to give new orders to those still present.


	23. Chapter 23

The sense of relief that shot through Jamie, at the sight of a familiar mop of dark hair emerging from the airlock, was palpable.

And not a moment too soon - as far as he was concerned!

Until this point, the young Scot had been feeling very left out of things. All the Oortelians had tasks to be getting on with - even Palasar had left him behind - but Jamie had soon discovered that he was still being closely watched. Even the subtlest of motions in the direction of the huge doorway had instantly resulted in his being (politely) herded back to his designated waiting spot. Now he was able to let loose with an enthusiastic cry of “Doctor!” as he ran towards his friend.

As so often seemed to be the case, the Doctor was the center of attention as he made his exit from the airlock. However, on seeing Jamie’s rapid approach his face lit up with delight. Making polite excuses, he brushed everyone else aside so he could greet the young Highlander, clasping Jamie’s forearm with both hands and shaking him enthusiastically. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you, my boy!’ he gushed with happiness, ‘You gave me quite a scare for a moment back there, Jamie, I have to say!”

This puzzled the Scot for a second, until he remembered his bloodied nose… from what now seemed like a very long time ago. “Och, that was nothing, Doctor, I just took a wee tumble. I need to tell you about Zoe…”

“Yes, Jamie, and I very much want to hear your account.’ The Doctor assured him gravely, giving his arm a final squeeze of reassurance before releasing him. ‘But first I must pass on a message.’ He turned to address the small knot of Oortelians that had gathered around them both: including Palasar, her First, Faramandar - and several others that he did not recognise. He quickly explained the plan to open both airlock doors, enabling them to use the contact craft as an extended chamber. This was met with cautious approval, and led to some fevered discussions that Jamie was unable to follow.

Until Palasar blurted out. “But this will simplify matters enormously! With direct access to Indigo Flame from the contact craft, we can remove a step from our relay, talking directly between both vessels! When Mech-Tec Enteberol has finished modifying the link in there, we should be able to maintain communications with the Clade Commander as well - don’t you think, Sir?”

This she addressed to Ghost First Faramandar, who was looking deeply thoughtful, but he nodded decisively on hearing her. “I do indeed, Specialist. I was just considering how many augmented troopers to assign to your mission, factoring in this new information. We now know that we can communicate quite easily over distance within this ship, but I am wondering if it will be possible to send a signal through the open airlock, thereby establishing almost real-time communication with the Commander himself. Tell me, Thadokta, has anyone been able to determine just what has been causing our transmission difficulties?”

Somewhat thrown by this, the Doctor had to back-pedal for a moment before he realised what the man was asking. “Ah, I see what you mean… No, I don’t believe so… at least, no one has mentioned anything to me. I would imagine that, if the problem is caused by some quality of this ship’s hull, then this should bypass it quite effectively. However, on the other hand… if it is the result of differing time-states existing between the two vessels, then I’m afraid only an empirical test will tell.”

Jamie, who had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, was relieved when the Oortelians backed away to discuss the possibilities amongst themselves. He urgently tugged on the Doctor’s arm. “Now can I tell ye what happened to Zoe, Doctor, and what we plan to do about it?” The Doctor agreed most emphatically and, after perfunctorily excusing himself to the others, allowed himself to be led further away. He was quite surprised when Jamie assumed that he would already know some of the details from a message the young Highlander had apparently sent to him, whilst he was aboard the Oortelian ship.

“I did see you a couple of times in the Oortelians transmissions, Jamie, but I assure you that I only heard that Zoe was missing - taken by the giant - not what had actually happened to her.” The young Highlander regarded him curiously for a moment, then, after a suspicious glance in the direction of their hosts, began his story again.

From the beginning.

Meanwhile, Ghost First Faramandar had come to his decision as to how to proceed, and was clearly and concisely outlining everyone’s tasks, given the new options available. First, he turned to the nervous looking female by the communications installations. “Tec-Op Choltz, I want you through the airlock next. Liaise with that Enteberol mollusc. I am proceeding with this on my own authority, but if an immediate link to the Commander can be established, he must be informed as a matter of priority. I stand ready to cease and desist by his command. If he is still unable to contact me directly, return as soon as you have a reply.’

Turning to Palasar, Faramandar continued as Choltz assumed her place by the airlock. “Specialist Palasar, I believe that, should it prove that we can send our signals in this more convenient fashion, you will only require the services of one augmented trooper. Therefore, I shall accompany you myself, but…’ he held out a hand to forestall any comment, ‘only in the capacity of observer, and a communications link. I will leave the actual process of establishing contact with the Pilot to yourself, and your alien friends. You have my word that I will only interfere if I believe that your life is in danger, and I shall bear no arms. This is not open to debate. …Q...’

The Ghost First addressed his slimmer counterpart, ‘You will supervise operations here, and the departure of our remaining troopers. I will task two of my soldiers to remain with you, in case we find ourselves falling back on our original plan. They will be able to act as relay links, should that prove to be necessary after all. Any questions?"

“A request.’ Q put in quickly, ‘Assign supervision to your Second, she appears to be very capable. I would accompany the contact team. I consider Specialist Palasar my personal responsibility.”

Faramandar studied his normally taciturn friend regretfully, then waved away his request. “Denied. I need you here to be my brothers hands should anything go awry. I accept your responsibility as my own. Exetrallus has my complete faith and confidence, and will assist you here ably - but decisions may yet be required here that go beyond her rank.

‘Palasar, I would speak with your aliens.”

As soon as Faramandar and Palasar approached the Doctor and Jamie, the Doctor swung around in some agitation, demanding the Ghost First’s attention. “Ah, there you are… Faramandar, is it not? Never mind, I must insist that we do something about locating my young companion, Zoe. Your Clade Commander himself sent me back over here to…”

“Forgive me, Thadokta. I do not know you, and I only have your word as to my Commander’s intentions at present. You need to understand, I did not even know your name until Specialist Palasar told me about you.’ Faramandar spoke in a reasonable tone, but it was evident from his interruption that he considered himself in total command.

Despite the lack of recognisable distinguishing features, there was something in his manner and bearing that reminded the Doctor strongly of Silandor; particularly as he continued, ‘You may insist on nothing, Thadokta. At least until you give me reason to trust you, or I hear otherwise from the Clade Commander. However, you will be pleased to learn that we have already decided on a course of action, and I have no objection to your presence on the contact team.”

“Contact team?’ asked the Doctor, only slightly mollified, ‘well that sounds a bit more promising, at least. Perhaps you would be kind enough to explain just what that entails, Ghost First?”

“Specialist Third Palasar tells me you know each other.’ Faramandar tilted his head towards the young woman, then looked directly at Jamie. ‘And your companion here will play an important role in proceedings, if all goes well. Perhaps you would prefer that they give you all the details, such as they are. I must briefly issue a few further instructions, then I would hear anything that you learned aboard our ship that may prove useful to me.” Without further ceremony the Ghost First turned his back on them, leaving the Doctor glancing between Jamie and his lizard lady-friend.

Jamie just beat Palasar to the punch. “Och, weel, Doctor, it couldnae be more simple really! We are just going to try to talk to that huge great spaceman, and get him to give Zoe back to us!”

“There is actually a little more to it than that, Thadokta,’ Palasar broke in, giving Jamie one of those looks that transcended species, ‘quite a lot more, in fact. Although the recovery of your friend is an important consideration, our main desire is to clear up any misunderstanding arising from our original encounter. Then - hopefully - to establish a meaningful dialogue.”

“A commendable goal, I’m sure,’ nodded the Doctor enthusiastically, ‘and one that I will be most happy to offer my full support and assistance, Palasar. Er… is that the extent of your plan, my dear?” Palasar excused herself for a moment, dashing off to collect something that she wanted to show him.

Jamie took the opportunity to confide to the Doctor why he, a humble clansman, was considered so vital to the operation. “Yon lassy and her folk cannae speak giant spaceman, Doctor! That’s why I was able to convince them that they needed me. I only heard a short phrase, but I understood him quite clearly. I’m guessing that it’s the Tardis again, and you and Zoe will be able to understand him as well!’ The Doctor nodded his approval of the young Scot’s reasoning, and was unsurprised when Jamie said. ‘So I reckoned that we could translate for them. Zoe has to be alright, and we are going to get her back. In fact, I wouldnae be surprised if that braw wee lass hasnae started bossing yon giant about already!”

The Doctor smiled warmly at his young friend and gripped his shoulder reassuringly, recognising the concern behind his words. “That’s the spirit, Jamie! I’m sure that we will be able to sort all this out…” Before he could say any more, Palasar returned with her discarded helmet, explaining the function of the visi-com unit to him. “Ah! So it was your helmet feed that I saw on the view-screen aboard the Indigo Flame then! But I thought… Oh, I suppose that Tec chap managed to fix it after all, yes? Otherwise it won’t be very much use now, will it?”

The young Specialist looked from the Doctor to her visi-com, then back again, seeming a little confused, then shrugged it off. “There is nothing wrong with my helmet’s functioning, Thadokta. I simply removed it when I wished to discuss matters that I considered to be, er… my own business. Of no interest to the enclaves, anyway. My main point was, although this device can transmit to our ship - through the booster we have installed - we receive no signal in return. I now have access to augmented troopers…”

“Oh Aye, I should have told you before!’ Jamie couldn’t help interjecting. ‘Some of these soldiers have cyber thingies in their hieds, Doctor!”

“Please, Jay-Mee!’ The Doctor had to stifle a grin at the prim ‘schoolmarm’ tone in Palasar’s voice. ‘I told you before, the augments are nothing more than superior tools - just helpful technology! Anyway, Thadokta, I am hoping that we can simply create a relay for two-way communications. It may sound primitive, but what does that matter, if it works?”

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more, my dear. Do go on!”

Palasar placed her helmet back on her head at last. “Well, that’s really all there is to it, Thadokta. It will mostly be down to me - to the three of us, I mean - to talk to the, er… the pilot. But I am very much hoping that Ghost First Faramandar will be able to receive orders from Clade Commander Silandor, and helpful advice and suggestion from our enclaves. It is a daunting proposition for me, but I feel it must be done, and I can use all the help I can get!”

Privately the Doctor very much doubted that they would be hearing from anyone in the enclaves any time soon, but decided not to mention that to the girl. It was evident that the Oortelians on this vessel were unaware of the machinations taking place aboard their own ship. Instead, he contented himself with a simple encouragement. “I’m sure that you will do just fine, Palasar. As I was saying to Jamie earlier, we will be able to sort all this out, if we just work together! Ah, Ghost First Faramandar! All done?”

“Indeed, Thadokta,’ agreed the large Oortelian, ‘everyone has their orders. I trust my people to keep me informed of any progress here. I see no reason for further delay. Let us go.”

His departure was so abrupt that it took a few moments for the three to assimilate his last words. Then there was a mad scramble to catch up with the soldier as he strode towards the huge portal. Nobody else really paid much attention as the massive door slid open once more, and Faramandar, Palasar, Jamie, and the Doctor set off.

 

It turned out that his suggestion, that Zoe might be able to take cover in his sleeve pocket, was not as successful as Null had initially hoped. Not only was his tiny friend unable to open the flap - let alone climb into the pocket - without his assistance: she had to contort and squeeze herself into a position that was (apparently) most uncomfortable before he was able to reseal it. He had discovered this very rapidly. As soon as the flap was in place again she began to struggle and squirm, shouting to be released at once. A very rumpled and flustered looking Zoe then told him - in no uncertain terms - that she had no intention of ever doing that again! Null had been embarrassingly relieved that his helmet visor was in place, so that the (understandably) annoyed young woman could not see the flush that was heating his face.

He had apologised, of course, but beyond a few useful suggestions as to how to behave in the coming encounter, Zoe had maintained a brooding silence as he carried her along. He suspected that this had more to do with concern for her friends, rather than any embarrassment over the pocket fiasco; but unfortunately this left Null alone with his thoughts - and he didn’t like it. The more he considered his reactions to the intruders on his ship, the less he was able to justify his actions. True, he now realised that he had been in a state of grief - compounded by shock - at the time. True, these lizard-like aliens had no business being on his ship in the first place, and basically constituted an invasion force or - at the very least - were possibly scavengers or looters.

However, none of this excused his hysterical assumption that they were some kind of plague or infestation of alien vermin: that they should be exterminated without a second thought - as casually as one might step on an insect. Null could find no mitigating factors that could satisfactorily exculpate his behavior, or stem the increasing tide of guilt that threatened to swamp his thoughts. In some ways, he had almost hoped that they would turn out to be hostile, but in the event this appeared not to be the case.

As the door to the next corridor section hummed aside before him, Null was startled from his dark musings by a delighted cry of “Doctor! Jamie!” from Zoe. He was puzzled by this outburst as he could see no-one, and they were still some sections away from the damaged hull area where he had expected to find the lizard-people. Then he remembered to look down and, sure enough, he saw a small group of four figures halfway along the next section, seemingly frozen in place. As he stepped though Zoe was excitedly tugging on his arm. “Put me down! Put me down! And remember to sit, like I told you, to show that you mean them no harm!” Much to his own surprise, Null found himself obeying the tiny girl without question.

As he released Zoe to the deck, two of the figures broke rank and rushed towards her with cries of relief and welcome. Obviously they were the girl’s friends - he recognised the one in the skirt as Jamie - they collided together in a joyful group hug. Switching his attention to the other two, Null examined them closely as they advanced towards him in a much more sedate and cautious fashion, arms held wide from their bodies. Perhaps this was intended to indicate that they carried no weapons? He realised that he had seen the smaller lizard before - it was the only one he had seen that appeared to be wearing any clothing - a pale grey leotard that left its arms and legs bare - with an orange flash down one side. The other, much larger specimen, wore only the harness-like kit that he had seen on others like it. This one was gazing up at him with what Null could only interpret as complete and total disbelief!

They stopped a respectful distance away and the clothed one cheeped and chirped at the three friends for a moment, until they broke apart. The smaller male, dressed almost as incongruously as the boy in the skirt, stepped forward saying, “Ah yes! Of course, of course!’ He scooped Zoe towards him and grinned hugely at her. ‘Zoe, my dear, would be so kind as to introduce us to your friend here?”

“Certainly, Doctor! This is Aleph Null, the pilot of this vessel.’ With a quick glance at Jamie, she added, ‘he’s been very kind to me.

‘These are my friends, the Doctor and Jamie!” She told Null brightly.

Before the pilot could respond, the Doctor addressed him, clapping his hands together for some reason. “Splendid! Splendid! Now then, Captain Null, may I take it that you can understand my words, as you evidently understand Zoe?”

This gave Null pause for a second - being addressed as Captain threatened a flood of memories - but he shook them away impatiently and replied. “Yes, Doctor, although I still don’t understand how this can be… Zoe has suggested that I may be able to speak to these… others, with your assistance. But first, Jamie…’ The younger man seemed surprised to be addressed by name. “I hope that I did not hurt you earlier, I tried to be gentle.”

“Och, that’s nae bother!’ (Much to Null’s consternation - he had expected the lad to speak the same language as Zoe!) ‘Ye didnae harm Zoe, so dinnae fash yourself on my account, Captain!”

The Doctor indicated the two lizard people, who were still waiting patiently, then gestured them to approach closer as he said, “Allow me to make some more introductions. These people are Oortelians. This is Specialist Third Palasar, and the rather hefty chap is Ghost First Faramandar. They were rather hoping that you might be willing to talk to them.”

Null’s heart sank at this eminently reasonable approach, even though he had been hoping to avoid further unpleasantness. He had - there was no denying it now - killed, or at the very least grievously hurt, four intelligent beings. This wasn’t like during the war, this was up close and personal… less easy to quantify. He found within himself a deep admiration for their courage in facing him at all, and a curiosity as to their reasons for doing so. He made no effort to disguise his sadness as he replied. “Before I say anything else, Doctor, would you please convey my apologies to these people, for my attack on our initial encounter? I will not try to excuse my actions, but please do emphasize that I deeply regret them.”

The oddly dressed little man gestured these ‘Oortelians’ even closer and began, much to Null’s surprise, a sing-song chittering that matched what he had heard of their own speech. A quick glance at Zoe and Jamie gave him the impression that they found nothing unusual in this, so the pilot returned his attention to this fascinating display of linguistic skill. When the Doctor had finished, the one in the leotard broke into an impassioned flurry of chirping; addressing Null directly, even though he understood none of it. The Doctor nodded along, seemingly in time with her song, then steepled his hands beneath his chin before translating. “Now then, Captain…”

Zoe tugged at his arm and whispered something in his ear. He looked at her in surprise, saying, “Really? Oh, well, Null it is then. Sorry if I misspoke, Null. I was just going to warn you that this may become a little complicated, er… rather quickly. My friend Palasar would first like me to assure you that her people are evacuating your ship even as we speak. This is intended as a gesture of good faith, by complying with your previously expressed wishes. However, the Oortelians would very much like to put any unfortunate misunderstandings behind, and instead move forward into a mutual exchange of information.’

He hesitated for a moment, then added, ‘I should tell you that I am paraphrasing a little here, Null. This method of communication is proving most unsatisfactory. Basically, they have a lot of questions that they would like to ask you, and in return they offer any assistance that you may require.

‘I think that about covers it.

‘For the moment.”

Studying the group of attentive faces carefully, Null took his time in replying, and decided to choose his words very carefully. The larger Oortelian, Faramandar, seemed to stiffen momentarily in the face of this blank scrutiny, but he relaxed as Null began speaking. “I am glad to hear this, and grateful. If the sanctity of my ship is respected, I can see no reason why we cannot enter into discussions. However, I should warn you that I have very many unanswered questions myself. I have only recently woken from a period of… deep sleep, of unknown duration. I don’t know how far I have traveled from my home system, I don’t know how long it has taken to get here… I don’t even know where ‘here’ is. My ship is damaged, my crew apparently dead, and I have never seen people as small as you. So, as you say, Doctor - this could get a little complicated.”

The Doctor rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he digested all of this. He was about to tell Palasar what he had just been told, but hesitated. “I shall pass along what you have said, Null, but I worry that things will take a very long time if we are stuck with myself or my friends here translating everything. However, I may just have an idea.

Tell me, did you happen to notice a blue box on your flight-deck, by any chance?”

 

With the command hub once more dominated by the awe inspiring simulation of the Razorclaw Nebula, Silandor took a moment to review the situation. His duty crew had been fed and watered… Not wishing to allow anyone to leave the hub at change of shift, the Commander had ordered nutrition bars and drinks bulbs delivered. Most, like his own, lay untouched - but at least everyone had access to sustenance should they require it. He had decided to dispense with the main screen - as far as displaying visual feeds went - as most of those individuals equipped with visi-com units had returned to the Flame by now.

There was also the matter of the sensitivity of any information that those remaining may convey, as the mission entered this new phase. Silandor trusted his crew implicitly, but he saw no reason to burden too many of them with knowledge irrelevant to their own immediate tasks. Satisfied that everything was as well as it could be, he leaned back into his command throne and swung his monitor panel into place, engaging his privacy field as he did so. His monitor now showed a split-screen display of the only views that concerned him at present. The enclave’s auditorium, and Specialist Palasar’s reinstated view. He had watched with fascination as Faramandar had strode confidently towards the huge portal a little earlier, alternating with glances at the reactions from those in the amphitheater to the lock-down he had instigated.

Amazingly enough, Thraxle had managed to calm even the most vociferous protests down, mainly by claiming that Silandor himself would provide the explanation as soon as he was able. The Clade Commander had grimaced the first time he heard it, but had to admit that the man was correct. He would have to do just that - when he had decided what to tell them. Looking at them now, he could almost imagine the waves of simmering resentment rising like heat-sprites from the elders. Archivist First Valmik, in particular, of course. Fitting his communications headgear absentmindedly, he expanded Palasar’s feed on the monitor as he contacted Talamane, supervising operations in the contact craft. “Sub-Commander, update, please.”

“Talamane responding, Clade Commander. There have been some promising developments down here, Sir. Mech-Tec Enteberol has been working on the modifications you specified, but the situation has changed significantly since Thadokta’s suggestion…”

“Suggestion?” Silandor interrupted, not sure that he liked the sound of that.

“Yes, Sir. He pointed out that that our contact craft is basically a multi-level airlock itself, and if we could leave both doors through the alien ship hull open, we would be able to…”

“We would be able to evacuate faster, and possibly communicate directly!’ Silandor was deeply chagrined at this pitiful oversight.  ‘Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Er, yes, Commander, that was my reaction exactly! Most embarrassing to have something so obvious pointed out by an alien unfamiliar with our technology, Sir. Anyway, Enteberol has been making progress, particularly now that Tec-Op Choltz has just arrived to assist. Also, Choltz has been instructed by Ghost First Faramandar to request a go/no go decision on a matter of some urgency, so that she can return with a reply soonest. Shall I pass you over?”

“Unnecessary, Talamane, I am aware of his intentions and fully concur with his approach. However, tell Choltz not to inform Faramandar just yet, I would like to test the Tec’s modifications beforehand.’ (And surprise that arrogant brother of mine into the bargain! He thought to himself with a silent chuckle.) ‘How soon before the airlock can be fully opened?”

“”I have people working on it as we speak, Sir. I am told it should not take long now, they are just deactivating the last safety protocols.”

“Outstanding! Instruct Choltz to return to the alien craft as soon as Enteberol is ready to check the system. I want her to inform Ghost First Quetzlepod that he is now in charge of operations at the airlock. I shall monitor her feed, and attempt to contact her when she is in position. I want you to return to the hub. I imagine that I will need you to take command fairly soon, as there is a matter that I must attend to personally. I shall fully brief you when you arrive. Anything else that I need to know, Sub-Commander?

“Just one thing, Sir. I have also been informed that the bodies of our dead await repatriation to the Indigo Flame. I was going to have specialists from Medi-Bay waiting for them with hover-gurneys, so that they could be taken to the freezer units. Unless you have an alternative suggestion, Sir?”

Silandor paused for a beat before responding, beset by conflicting emotions that he didn’t have time for. Then he allowed himself a cleansing sigh. “No, Talamane, let them stay on that ship, until we have retrieved all of our living personnel. Then you may have them collected. Is that everything?”

“Yes, Commander. I will report in person shortly. Talamane out.”

For a moment the Clade Commander was lost in thought, then he shook himself back to alertness and manipulated his monitor screen again, this time to bring up the feed from Choltz’ unit alongside Palasar’s. It wasn’t showing much of interest at present, but the other screen was an entirely different matter. As Palasar and her entourage approached yet another huge portal, it whisked aside to reveal the giant alien. Silandor immediately glanced across towards Manonkar’s station, just in time to see the specialist leap to his feet and turn towards him. Silandor rapidly signed for silence and instructed him to resume his station. His Clade Commander was aware - nobody else need be just yet. Glad of the privacy screen as never before, Silandor raised the volume from Palasar’s recording, then leaned forward to watch what would transpire with breathless fascination.


	24. Chapter 24

When Sub-Commander Talamane arrived back at the hub, the first thing that she noticed was that the Commander had engaged his privacy field. However, due to his previous orders, she felt justified in disturbing him, so waved in his peripheral vision until he noticed her. Silandor nodded at her sharply, made some adjustment to his control pad, and dropped the screen long enough for her to stand by his side. He held up a hand before she could report and, once the screen was up again, tapped his pad. “This is absolutely astonishing, Talamane! Our giant is back, and he appears to be willing to talk! Look here, Thadokta and his friends can talk to him, it is really quite remarkable. And most importantly, look here! What do you see?”

Leaning in closer the Sub-Commander saw what he meant. ”His face is hidden by some kind of screen in the helmet? Is that significant, Sir?”

“Of course it is! If they cannot actually see what this being looks like behind that screen, it may be possible to reveal his existence to the enclave’s. If carefully controlled, and his true nature hidden long enough, a truly meaningful exchange may be possible. If we get them so interested and involved in this being as a person, well… maybe his appearance won’t come as such a shock to the enclaves…”

“That sounds like a lot of ifs and maybe’s to me, Sir. No offense intended.”

“None taken, Talamane. You have news?”

“Yes, Commander. The Tec’s have completed their work on the airlock. They should have opened it fully once I had departed that level, so perhaps it may be wise…”

Silandor swore and punched his panel rather more aggressively than required, calling the feed from Choltz’ visi-com to the fore. He was encouraged to see that it now showed First taking charge of the clean-up operation. “Tec-Op Choltz, this is Silandor. Do you read me?” he barked into his speaker-bud.

The view bounced as he heard Choltz’ excited shout. “Yes, Sir, I can hear you clearly!”

First started, then turned back to stare at her in surprise. “I said nothing to you, Tec, is there a problem?”

“No, Sir! I mean… Yes, Sir! I mean… I am in communication with the Clade Commander, Sir!”

Silandor shook his head and intoned, “Just tell him to carry on, Tec. I want to see if I can reach Faramandar. Silandor out.” He cut the connection before she could respond and flipped back to Palasar’s feed. Apparently the woman was alternating her view from Dokta, who was somehow talking the giant’s incomprehensible gibberish; to the being itself, who was either listening impassively, or perhaps sleeping. It was hard to tell. Quashing any disappointment that he could not actually see his brother’s reaction to his words, the Commander hailed him brusquely. “Faramandar, this is Silandor. Do not respond. If you are hearing this, one throat-click. Now.”

The response came clearly through his earphones; Silandor nodded at Talamane, then continued. “Observe and remember. Report when you are able to do so without alerting the others, I do not want my presence announced just yet. Make every effort to assure the giant that we mean it no harm. I may be unavailable at some point in the near future, in which case you will report to Sub-Commander Talamane. She will alert me should I be required. Oh… by the way, brother… you have my permission to make this foolhardy attempt to contact the vessel’s pilot. Silandor out.” He allowed himself an ironic chuckle as he broke contact, then turned to his Second Spear.

“Talamane, much as I am loathe to leave this unfolding story, I must engage in some damage control. It appears that our friend over there is at least willing to consider talking to us: for this I believe that we owe our thanks to Zoee, Thadokta’s friend. She seems to get along with him quite well. I am hoping that things continue to go peacefully, but contact me immediately through Thraxle if matters change dramatically. Instruct Manonkar that I want multiple backup recordings of the entire proceedings from now on.”

With no further ado, Silandor deactivated the privacy screen and extricated himself from his command throne, calling out as he strode towards the exit portal. “Sub-Commander Talamane, you have the hub.”

“Aye, Sir! I have the hub.” Replied a rather nonplussed Talamane.

 

The chilled snacks in the bowl before him were just beginning to stir from their torpor, so Archivist First Valmik resignedly made a selection. One particularly juicy looking vorp-grub was markedly livelier than its fellows, frantically attempting to distance itself from a nearby manticore beetle. (The creature lacked the intelligence to realise that its natural predator was no threat, in its current condition, whereas Valmik most definitely was!)

He gripped the wriggling morsel between thumb and forefinger and popped it into his mouth; surprised to find himself relishing the cold juices as he clamped his teeth down upon it. He decided to concentrate on the grubs first; the selection of shelled insects still bore the sheen of the chiller cabinet, a thin icing of frost glittering on their carapaces.

It was most unsatisfactory. Valmik liked to catch his food as much as the next man - it stimulated the appetite, and added flavour to the prey - but only in the privacy of one’s own enclave’s dining facilities. He would not have his people be seen as anything less than dignified. Certainly not by the military morons that were holding them in forced captivity (for captivity it was - no matter how they chose to phrase it,) or the suspected spy-eyes of the absent Clade Commander.

Equally, he had had no intention of eating the prepacked (dead!) garbage that they had initially been offered! He had argued vociferously and effectively for real food to be collected from stores, realizing that the meals waiting in his own vivarium would probably be too active for dignified consumption. He had actually been planning a trip to the mammalarium, where several fast breeding (and easily maintained) species of small furry creatures provided a much more entertaining hunt.

However, now that he and his colleagues had spent quite some time in (fascinating) conversation with the mammal called Thadokta, Valmik found the idea less appealing somehow – and certainly less politic! And they were all confined to the amphitheater for the moment, anyway…

He glanced around at the armed (armed!) guards securing the exits that he could see, allowing himself to glower resentfully at them, then decided to try a chorpal-bug that was just beginning to feebly wave its legs.

Remarkable!

The carapace was crunchier, the contents somehow thicker and chewier - retaining all the flavour of the creature’s chorpal-pod diet to an astonishing degree! Momentarily distracted by culinary enthusiasm, Valmik had to remind himself to be angry at this shameful treatment, deciding to harass that useless Thraxle fellow once more.

Just as he opened his mouth to demand the presence of Silandor for the umpteenth time, he heard the portal behind him iris open, and turned to see the wretched man himself entering the auditorium. “It’s about time that you finally made an appearance, Clade Commander,’ Valmik sneered, ‘I trust that you have an explanation for the disgraceful way that we have been treated.”

The arrogant worm-cast actually had the temerity to look surprised at this welcome! “You have been ill-treated, Archivist First? I gave specific instructions that everyone was to be treated with the respect due to all the enclaves.”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it, Commander!’ Valmik’s ire rose further as Silandor stepped around him to reach the stage. ‘We have been detained - detained man! And by armed troopers, no less! This is totally outrageous! Are we common criminals, to be dealt with so?”

Silandor turned back to him and studied the bowl that Valmik still held, with what the Archivist assumed to be a feigned, almost ironic, interest. Then, to his astonished outrage, the Commander picked out the largest mantis and bit it in half; chewing appreciatively as juice dribbled from his mouth and down his fingers. “Mmm… very tasty!’ Silandor mumbled around the mouthful, ‘Tell me. Do you really believe that I would allow criminals to eat better than my own crew, Valmik?’

He languidly snaked out his tongue to lick the juices from his fingers, before popping the rest of the insect into his mouth. “No, Archivist First, there are sound reasons for this lockdown, I assure you. As I am here to explain. Please be seated.”

Once on the stage, Silandor spread his arms and called, “if I might have everyone’s attention!’ Valmik considered this request absurdly redundant, somewhat fatuous in fact, as all eyes had been fixed on the man since he had entered the room - surely he knew that! ‘I will not apologise for confining you to this auditorium, but I do regret not having been available to explain my reasons to you earlier, and I am sorry if the methods employed appear somewhat heavy handed.’

There were several barks of contemptuous laughter at this, Valmik’s amongst them, but Silandor continued calmly. ‘You are being held here purely as a precaution - I sent armed troops, so that nobody would underestimate the seriousness of the situation. The enclaves are not being singled out, I assure you. I have initiated a closed protocol throughout the ship. Much has occurred that you are currently unaware of…’ (More snorts and shaking of heads.) ‘…and I have been too busy doing my job to pander to any one group of individuals. So, please be aware that the situation is ongoing: my presence is currently required in the hub, but I am sparing you this time even so - I do not intend to repeat myself. We are, even as I speak, evacuating the exploratory team from the alien vessel. They are all being quarantined.

It is my sad duty to inform you that we have suffered casualties.

Four of my Troopers are dead.”

As Silandor had intended, a shocked yet sympathetic silence descended on his audience. Many shifted uncomfortably in their seats, a few cleared their throats in embarrassment, at a loss as how to respond to this news: until Archivist First Valmik rose to his feet. “I think that I speak for all of us, Clade Commander Silandor, when I express my deep sorrow at this sad news. However, without meaning any disrespect, can you tell us how these four actually died?”

“Not precisely, Archivist, but I emphasise that we do not suspect anything contagious in nature at this time. There is no evidence of harmful contaminants. As I said earlier, the lockdown and quarantine is purely a precaution. So… I do not believe that the Indigo Flame is under any direct threat, but I am playing it safe until the bodies can be examined by our pathologists. They have not been brought back to us yet, so I have not seen them with my own eyes. Unfortunately, nobody on the team actually saw them die. It appears that these soldiers had moved into a different section from the rest of the party, and were not missed until the discovery of their corpses. Apparently they died from physical injuries, but it seemed advisable to investigate further before making any assumptions.”

“Erm…’ Valmik ventured nervously, “What kind of physical injuries, Commander?”

“That I cannot answer, until the bodies have been examined. I have been informed that they experienced blunt force traumas, but we can only speculate as to the cause at present. Before you ask, here are a few possibilities that have been put forward: but I must emphasise the speculative nature of these suggestions, in the absence of definitive information.

‘One: These luckless individuals may have activated some form of automated defense system, what some people may choose to refer to as booby-traps. Those who recovered our dead did not encounter any such devices, but the possibility cannot be discounted.

‘Two: Please note that I… hesitate to put this suggestion forward, but it is possible that Thadokta lied to us, and there are more of his kind on board that ship. Other than the friends that he told us about, I mean. I know that this seems unlikely; personally I doubt that any of his species would be a physical match for an Oortelian, even an archivist, and I don’t truly believe Thadokta intends us any harm. However, if his crew is larger than we were told… Well, maybe not all of them are as reasonable as he appears to be.

‘Three: There is yet another lifeform aboard that vessel, one that we have not yet identified. This also seems very unlikely to me. The odds of three completely different species - and I include ourselves in that count - all arriving at the same place at the same time simply beggar belief. Still, it must be considered… and before anyone else makes the obvious suggestion… Yes… I have acknowledged the possibility that there is a surviving Ancient, as preposterous as this sounds.”

The auditorium exploded into a cacophony of incoherent comments and queries, until the Archivist First bellowed for quiet. Valmik was trembling as he asked the Commander, ‘You are serious about this, Silandor? You actually suggest that one of our living ancestor’s may still exist?”

”No, Valmik, I simply present it as a possibility to consider…”

“But why would an Ancient want to kill our people?”

“Why would an Ancient even know who we are?”

“But… But, we cannot just walk away from this, Commander! The significance to our people, to our society, to our history… it is incalculable! This must be investigated further, regardless of any risks!”

“Ah… Now there I can give you some good news. Before he left us to help his friends, Thadokta made some very useful suggestions. They may enable us to establish a more reliable link with those that are remaining aboard that ship to, as you say, investigate. A small group from the original team is accompanying Thadokta in his search for his friend, Zoee. I hope that you now have a better understanding of my actions, even if you still feel that they were unnecessary, and realise that I intend no insult as I return to supervise proceedings from the hub.

‘What I would ask of you all is this: please put your remarkable minds together to consider the ramifications of everything I have just told you. You must remain here, for the reasons I have just specified - at least for the time being.

‘Put that time to good use.

‘If anyone here can think of any other possible options that I need to consider, I will afford them due attention. We all need to work together on this. As soon as we establish direct communication, it will be made available to you - as observers, initially. If we should discover whatever killed my troopers, your comments and advice will be invited - and most appreciated.

‘That is all. I must go. Archivist First, may I trust you to organize your compatriots in the most efficient manner possible?”

Silandor was already leaving the stage.

Feeling more energized and invigorated than at any time he could remember, Valmik nodded to Silandor’s departing back. “You may, Clade Commander, you may indeed!”

 

It was like walking in the footsteps of legend, Faramandar mused, still not entirely believing the evidence of his own eyes.

The strange little alien, Thadokta, seemed to have taken charge of the situation without the Ghost First having any clear idea how it had happened. True, Faramandar had been stunned, almost in a state of denial - on first coming into the presence of the Ancient. Even after Silandor had managed to contact him with confirmation and instructions - such as they were - Faramandar had left most of the talking to Palasar and her alien friends. He just hadn’t trusted himself to add anything coherent or useful at the time!

Now they were all (apparently) heading towards the flight deck of this ship out of mythology, and Faramandar found himself with time to analyse the circumstances facing him a little more sensibly. Far ahead, his enormous strides outpacing them all, was the giant pilot. He was carrying Thadokta, and they appeared to be deep in conversation, if their body language could be interpreted in Oortelian terms. This had been at the little alien’s suggestion, as he appeared to be quite keen to check on his own ship - and to get to the bottom of this entire mystery, if possible, of course.

They were trailed by Palasar and Thadokta’s companions, who were busily comparing stories of their adventures, whilst the Specialist diligently observed, only occasionally joining in. She, like Faramandar himself, was unable to refrain from frequent glances at ‘Null’. (Evidently this was the Ancient’s name.)

The Ghost First had chosen to drop back further still and discuss matters more intelligibly with Silandor, only to find him unavailable!

Blast the man!

That was so typical of his brother! Now Faramandar was left alone with his thoughts: he had no intention of doing anything more than observe, as per the Clade Commander’s instructions. Still, he had left word with the Second Spear that he expected to be contacted immediately on the Commander’s return, and that would have to suffice. What puzzled him most though, was what Silandor could possibly be dealing with that took precedence over this… this astonishing turn of events!

He had always been this way.

Silandor followed his own path, achieving the required results by whatever means he considered necessary. Faramandar supposed that his brother would never change. They had both survived a misguided experiment in social engineering, at the very beginning of their lives.

It was also illegal, as the scientists running it had wanted to see what would happen if a brood was left to fend for itself, as in primitive times. They had hoped to prove that stronger, more independently minded, Oortelians would result. Although the concealed nesting cave had been well stocked with edible lifeforms, the researchers had miscalculated unforgivably.

By the time the official Nest Guardians had been notified of this crime by the surviving scientists, Faramandar and his brother had devoured all of their weaker siblings. The one man foolish enough to enter the cave, in an attempt to rein them in, had fed the feral hatchlings for several days. When they were finally captured by the authorities, these hatchlings were deemed too dangerous to be handled by regular nest guardians: they were handed over to the military - to Fleet.

Ironically, the researchers had succeeded in their attempts. Named after heroes of legend, Silandor and Faramandar were indeed stronger, more aggressive, and more intelligent than others of equivalent age. Fleet decided that it would be worth the investment in time to raise and educate the brothers to maturity.

But first, the scientists responsible were sentenced to death, for ‘mass-murder by proxy’, and fed to Fleet’s new protégé’s.

Faramandar felt little guilt over this brutal introduction to life. Hatchlings were scarcely more than hunger on legs in the initial stages of their development: this was why the Nest Guardian enclave had been created, after all. He personally had no doubt that these dedicated people had saved the Oortelian species from itself, but he often wondered what it would have been like to grow up in their care. He suspected that his brother had been more deeply affected by the ordeal that had been their shared childhood, but Silandor never spoke of it - to anyone. The Ghost First had just about decided to catch up with Palasar, when he received the hoped for hail from his brother.

“Faramandar. I’m back. Report.”

“No, Brother, not until you answer a few of my own questions. Who is this Thadokta creature? What is his position here? Can I trust him? I don’t know anything about what is actually going on here - I cannot fulfil my task without a better understanding. You of all people should know that!”

“Mmm… You are lucky this is a secure channel, I can overlook your tone - on this occasion. But you are also correct - I shall brief you more fully momentarily - first I need to know your own position… all Palasar is showing me is Jaymee and Zoee.”

“Understood. We are currently being escorted to the pilot’s - his name is Null, by the way - flight deck, at the suggestion of Thadokta. Null appears to be cooperative: he has apologised for killing our troopers, in case you did not hear that, and he has displayed no further aggression thus far. I am cautiously optimistic, given that I don’t know exactly what we are trying to achieve here.”

“I’ll get to that. Have you seen this Null’s face?”

“Not yet. Is that important, Silandor?”

“More than you might imagine, Faramandar. I am hoping that, if all goes well, I will be able to include the enclaves in future discussions, but on no account must they be allowed to see our giant friend’s face. At least, not yet. Now listen carefully, I have a lot to explain to you.”

Freed of the necessity to sub-vocalise any further, thereby possibly attracting the attention of the others, Faramandar increased his pace to catch up with them.  However, as the Clade Commander began to go into increasing detail about… everything… he found himself slowing down once more.

Had he possessed the facial musculature for it, he would have been frowning.


	25. Chapter 25

As they arrived at the flight deck, the Doctor had a slightly better understanding - or at least, the inklings of a theory - as to what had happened to Null’s ship. (Apparently, it had never been considered necessary to name the vessel.)

The pilot had filled him in on his own experiences since being woken, and outlined the damage that had been suffered by his craft: the Doctor was particularly keen to study the data-chip that Null had mentioned. For his own part, the Doctor had promised to do whatever he could to assist, but cautioned that much of this would depend on the condition of the Tardis. He was somewhat alarmed when he looked into the corner she had occupied, and found it vacant.

Responding to his involuntary squawk of surprise, Null spoke quickly. “Not to worry, Doctor, I moved your blue box earlier. I… well, I didn’t know what it was - I’m afraid that I tried to open it, but it is more substantial than it looks. I don’t think I damaged it.”

He carefully placed the Doctor down by the Tardis, and the scruffy little man clapped his hands and began to run around the thing. Suddenly he popped his head back around and excused himself. “Oops! Just going to check on the old girl, Null! Back in a jiffy, I promise!”

The pilot might have felt concerned, if he hadn’t rapidly grown to like this odd little alien so much: he could not imagine the Doctor leaving Zoe and Jamie behind - but he was curious to see how the Doctor got in and out of this ‘Tardis’. He stepped around the box and settled himself down on the floor nearby to watch for his return, mindful that the others would be arriving shortly. These Oortelian creatures had seemed much more comfortable in his seated presence, and Null genuinely wanted to put them at ease, if he could.

The Doctor was beaming as he stepped out of the Tardis through a little door that Null had originally taken to be part of its odd decoration. His step was jaunty as he marched out, and he cried out in triumph as he noticed the arrival of the rest of this impromptu peace delegation. “Hello, Zoe! Wonderful news, Jamie! Splendid news, in fact! The old girl has managed to sort herself out in our absence, the clever old thing!” He was so happy that he didn’t even consider how the Oortelians might regard his dazzling dental display. As it happened, both Palasar and Faramandar were gazing around in confusion, trying to locate this unexpected additional person.

Null allowed the Doctor and his friends to indulge in another round of congratulations, before pointedly clearing his throat. The Doctor looked contrite. “Ah, yes… sorry old chap, it’s just such a relief to find that the damage wasn’t permanent. But you’re quite right, we must get on…’ He stepped away from Jamie and Zoe, checking to see that he had everyone’s attention, and coughed politely into his hand. ‘Now then everyone, Null and I have had quite an interesting little chat on the way here, and I believe that I may be able to expedite matters somewhat. Now that my ship has repaired itself…”

“That’s your ship?” The two Oortelians asked in unison, staring at the Tardis in frank disbelief.

“Yes, well, she may not look like much, but I’m actually very fond of her myself…’ The Doctor was pleased (and privately amused), to see Palasar look at the floor and shuffle her feet, like a child being scolded for being naughty. Faramandar simply blinked acknowledgement of the gentle rebuke, so he nodded back, accepting the apology. ‘As I was saying, I should now be able to access Null’s records through my own systems… Oh! I’m getting ahead of myself, sorry! Would you care to tell everyone about your data device, Null?” He asked, smiling up at the seated giant.

Zoe volunteered to take over the translating, as Null retrieved the data-chip from his wrist pad to show the others. “This small chip - hopefully - contains a full download of my ships records.’ Zoe said, repeating the pilot’s word verbatim for the benefit of the Oortelians. ‘Zoe helped me to retrieve them, but they will take a great deal of time to study, if run through my own systems. Zoe’s friend, the Doctor here, believes that he may be able to access the information faster from his own ship, which is why I have agreed to hand this over. Doctor?” Null offered the chip, and the Doctor wrapped his arms around it, as if carrying a large box.

“Ah, thank you, Null,’ replied the Doctor, struggling a little with his burden, then addressed the Oortelians, ‘you see, the Tardis is a lot more advanced than she looks and, well, you could say that we have a special relationship. I hope to cobble together an interface that will allow us to get a look at what this, er… chip contains. If it works, I should be able to run a patch into Null’s master control board, and Bert’s your father’s brother! Now then, Jamie, Zoe… while I work in the Tardis, I think you should help our Oortelian friends get to know Null a little better, but I may require your assistance at some point. Would that be acceptable to you two?” He asked Palasar and Faramandar hopefully.

Fortunately, everyone appeared to find this arrangement acceptable - even Faramandar, who had been noticeably quiet until now - so the Doctor ducked back into the Tardis and closed the door behind himself firmly. Struggling a little with the awkwardly shaped chip, he made his way over to the hexagonal console and placed it against the podium. “Now then, old girl,’ he announced into the air as he pondered his best course of action, ‘I know that you have been through a lot recently, but I really am going to need your help here.” Various panels and hatches sprang open, both in the side of the podium, and on top of the console; and the Doctor rubbed his hands together appreciatively as he began to study the mish-mash of wires and gadgetry revealed.

“Ah, of course!’ he announced happily, ‘an excellent suggestion, old girl!” and he set to work wrecking the Tardis once more.

 

When the Doctor dashed back into the Tardis, Jamie was unsurprised that Zoe, apparently brimming with newfound confidence, casually took charge of the situation. “I think that the best thing we could do, Jamie, is if I talk for Null, and you represent your Oortelian friends. At least, it’s a way to start - I know Null better, and you seem to be get along well with Palasar, at least!’ She must have noticed his slightly pained expression, asking worriedly, ‘Don’t you think so, Jamie?”

“Aye… Mebbe so,’ the Highlander answered slowly, trying to work out why he felt so uncomfortable, ‘but… do ye’ no think that might look as if we were taking sides, Zoe? I mean, should we no present ourselves as neutered parties, like the Doctor does? It usually seems to work for him…” He trailed of again as Zoe blinked at him a few times, a slight flush creeping into her cheeks.

“Um… I think you mean ‘neutral’, Jamie. But I see what you mean… I suppose I - we - could try it that way, as long as everyone is happy with that approach?’ Nobody offered any immediate objections, so Zoe perked up, smiling brightly around the unusual gathering. ‘Lovely! Well, who wants to start?”

Jamie silently cursed himself, not having thought to warn her of Palasar’s advice about smiling - and Zoe’s smile was very difficult not to notice! However, even though Faramandar stiffened slightly as the girl aimed her dazzlingly white teeth at him, Palasar was quick to restrain the soldier with a hurriedly whispered explanation. Apparently unaware of this byplay, Zoe’s attention was drawn back to the pilot, who had shifted forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Zoe? More than anything else - at the moment - I would like to know where these people have come from, and what they are doing on my ship. What are their intentions, and what do they want from me? I very much wish to deal with them on a peaceful footing, but I do not consider these to be unreasonable questions.” 

Zoe nodded in agreement, then paused for a moment, perhaps wondering how to phrase Null’s questions without causing offense. Jamie nipped in to give her a quick warning about how the Oortelians regarded the baring of teeth. She looked very surprised, then became quickly annoyed and poked him in the chest. “Well, you could have told me earlier, Jamie!’ She pivoted away to address Palasar and the big bruiser.

Basically Zoe just repeated all of Null’s questions, which surprised Jamie, because the young Scot had understood them perfectly the first time. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting - Zoe sounded exactly the same as she always did; but it was quite clear that the Oortelians could now understand her perfectly well also.

Come to that, why did the giant space alien language that Null spoke - and the lizard tongue of the Oortelians - both sound exactly the same… but they couldn’t understand each other? He glanced up at the pilot, but the blank golden screen of his space helmet told Jamie nothing. On the other hand, Palasar seemed to listening to Zoe with rapt attention, and Faramandar was nodding understanding at each question, as if they were hearing something entirely different from what his pretty wee friend was actually saying! Jamie decided that he would never understand Tardis magic.

After Zoe had finished speaking, Palasar stepped forward to reply, but was gently restrained by a large hand on her shoulder. “Excuse me, Specialist. I have a question of my own.’ Much to Jamie’s surprise, the hulking soldier then addressed him directly. “Tell me, friend Jaymee, are friend Zoee’s words an accurate translation?”

Jamie, feeling quite insulted on Zoe’s behalf, couldn’t help bristling a little as he snapped. “Aye, she said exactly what yon pilot said, ye Sassenach! And I’ll thank ye’ to no’ be implying otherwise, if you wish tae call me friend!”

Faramandar raised his hands in a pacifying gesture, saying “Do not be offended, Jaymee, these are important matters that we are to discuss. It seems only wise to be sure that we understand one another clearly.’ He turned back to Palasar. ‘Specialist Third. Do you believe that you have a sufficient understanding of the original mission profile to give Null a non-specific general overview?”

Palasar blinked in confusion at the convoluted wording of the question, and Jamie couldn’t blame her! This Faramandar seemed like more of a Redcoat the more he spoke! Still, he was pleased to see his alien friend rally, deliberately reaching out a hand to the understandably offended looking Zoe, before replying to the big man. “My apologies, Zo-Eee, I am sure that the First meant no offense… Sir, I can give an account of our journey, what we hoped to find, maybe even explain that we thought this ship a derelict: did not expect to find it occupied… Is that acceptable, Sir?”

The large soldier paused, rubbing his chin in thought. To Jamie it almost looked like Faramandar was listening to some inner voice, awakening a nagging suspicion that the young Scot couldn’t quite pin down. To everyone’s surprise, Null suddenly asked, “What is the delay, Zoe? Are they going to answer me?”

Once this was translated, Faramandar quickly gave Palasar permission to speak. “However,’ he cautioned her, ‘please emphasise that you are not an expert, and your account is more that of an enthusiastic observer. I think it is also worth mentioning that, if we are able to assure that each party has no hostile intentions, we would like to invite Null to enter into a dialogue with others aboard our ship. They may be able to answer his questions more… thoroughly.”

Jamie decided that there was just a little too much beating about the bush going on for his liking. “Palasar, would you like me tae introduce you to Null once more? I’m sure that he deserves a full translation of what Faramandar has just said to you - just tae be sure everyone understands one another, ye’ mind.”

Palasar looked uncertainly towards the Ghost First, who was glowering silently at the youthful Highlander. After a moment, the large man acknowledged her, but his words were most unexpected. “The Clade Commander apologises, Specialist, but he has been monitoring events for a short time. Perhaps you would be kind enough to explain this to Null before you begin. You are authorised to speak as you will, but if our host would like to speak to the Commander directly, he requests that you act as his proxy.”

“Oh.’ Palasar blinked, flicked out her tongue a couple of times, and then nodded in sudden realisation. “Of course! You’ve fixed the problem! I mean… Yes, Sir!’ Suddenly she winced and jerked her head, then made an adjustment to the side of her helmet. “Loud and clear, Sir… Thank you, Commander, I shall do my best.”

Taking a deep breath, the now very nervous looking young woman nodded her thanks to Faramandar, and began to address the giant pilot.


	26. Chapter 26

It was one of the strangest conversations that Jamie had ever taken part in, as he and Zoe alternately took turns translating.

Not only was he still mystified by the process itself - he didn’t feel as if he was talking any differently - but Palasar’s story had to be broken down into small parcels, which made it hard to follow at times. Fortunately, Null had been very patient, and seemed to have accepted the unseen presence of Palasar’s Clade Commander in good grace. After a while it had all fallen into a pattern for Jamie, and he was able to enjoy the alien woman’s explanation - she spoke with great enthusiasm, and he found this rubbing off on him.

As Jamie came to understand it, the Oortelians had been a spacefaring culture for a very long time, first colonising their home star system, then heading out for other stars. Until now, they had encountered no other sentient life. At least (and this was where Jamie got a little confused,) not living. Apparently they had discovered evidence of another culture having existed in the distant past, and this had been a major inspiration to Oortelian civilisation.

Palasar didn’t spend too long on this part of the tale, explaining that she merely wanted to provide some background, so that Null could get some idea of the kind of people they were. She personally believed that he would be much more interested in how they had come to find - himself! From the evidence discovered, the Oortelians had long believed that there must have been a race of giants at one time, and that they had travelled the stars. When Null’s ship had eventually been discovered, a mission was sent out to investigate - a mission that Palasar was very proud to be part of!

At this point she had once again apologised for their intrusion into his ship, explaining that they had honestly believed it to be a derelict - an impossible relic from eons past. Null had grown quite concerned at this, asking just how far in the past they believed his vessel to be from. Unfortunately, as they had no ‘common points of reference’ (Zoe explained this to Jamie later) nobody was able to arrive at a satisfactory answer.

The next revelation - that Null’s ship seemed to be at the center of a ‘time bubble’ or something - alarmed not only Jamie, but Zoe and Null as well. Of course, none of them would have known anything about it, he reasoned, what with them being inside it! (Whatever it was.)

Unfortunately, Jamie was quite unable to follow the resultant discussions, particularly when Palasar began relaying some further information from the Commander on the other ship. There was a lot of confusion and nonsense - as far as Jamie could tell - until Palasar finally announced, “Clade Commander Silandor believes that Thadokta would be a great deal of help to us here, Jamie. Can you fetch him, please?”

Only now realising that he had totally forgotten about the Doctor, Jamie started to walk towards the Tardis, just as the little man himself backed out of the door. It was almost as if he had been listening in. (But then, Jamie mused, if the scanner is working…)

Initially, the Doctor’s face was creased with concern, but on seeing the young Scot approaching he forced out a huge grin. “Ah, Jamie! Just the chap! I’ll be needing Zoe’s assistance as well, my boy, bring her along would you?”

Zoe looked puzzled, but began to walk towards them also, until Faramandar smoothly took her by the arm to halt her. He tried to mitigate his approach by being very polite. “Excuse me, friend Zoee, please wait one moment. Thadokta, I am not trying to imply anything here, but I believe that I would be remiss in my duties if I didn’t ask. You are not planning to leave us in that ‘ship’ of yours, are you?” If Zoe had expected any help from Null, it was not forthcoming, as he apologetically echoed the Ghost First’s concern.

Trying his best not to look too sheepish, the Doctor closed the Tardis door behind him and walked over to the group, skirting round Null’s leg. If he was surprised to see the pilot sitting so close to the Tardis, he disguised it well. “Not at all, everybody! As a matter of fact, I have made excellent progress in accessing Null’s records, and I believe that I may be able to provide a more convenient means for you to talk to each other - without myself or my friends here getting in the way, as it were! However,’ he continued, craning his head back to look at Null’s visor, ‘I will need your assistance, Null, as well as that of my companions. But before I get to that...’ he hurried on, glaring at Faramandar until he released Zoe. The Doctor nodded his appreciation then approached Palasar, asking, “Tell me, my dear, is the Commander able to see and hear me?”

“Er, yes, Thadokta, in fact…”

“Never mind, my dear, I just want to talk to him, and offer some advice… please excuse me.’ He adjusted his gaze until he was talking directly into her visi-com. “Clade Commander Silandor, I have made a few interesting discoveries already, and I believe that there is much more to come. I would like to be able to explain all of this not only to Null, who actually knows less about the contents of his ship than you may imagine…’

He paused, fixing the device’s lens with his most significant stare. ‘Something to do with ‘operational security’ and ‘need to know’, I believe… perhaps you are familiar with those concepts?

‘No matter, I strongly believe that it would be in the best interests of all parties if everyone’s best minds were presented with this information - at the same time. I think you understand me… Thank you, my dear!” He said finally, looking back to the bewildered Specialist and gripping her shoulders in appreciation.

Suddenly full of energy, the Doctor whirled round and ushered Zoe towards Jamie, but directed his explanation to the giant pilot. “Now then, Null. As I was saying, I will need your help with the next stage in decrypting those files, and I will have to ask you to trust me. I need to talk to my friends inside the Tardis. As a show of good faith, I shall leave the door open. Additionally, I would like you to take off one of your gloves and place that hand through the door - I promise that there is room enough - and I will explain everything once we are ready to proceed.”

The pilot’s blank visage swung in Zoe’s direction, so she nodded as confidently as she could, sure that he was asking for her opinion. She felt a great swelling of pride as, without offering any protest, Null began to tug off one of his gloves.

“Oh, one more thing, Null!’ the Doctor offered casually, as if he had forgotten a minor detail, ‘it would be a really good idea if you keep your helmet on, visor down, at least for the time being!” Then without offering any further explanation he bustled Jamie into the Tardis. Zoe remained outside just long enough to guide the hand that Null offered through the door. She felt it was the least she could do in the face of his unquestioning trust.

 

A fairly lively discussion had been taking place in the Tardis.

As soon as she had guided Null’s fingers to a comfortable position, gripping the inside of the Tardis’ entry, Zoe whirled on the Doctor. “You weren’t really thinking about just leaving, were you, Doctor?” she demanded hotly. Jamie was fairly interested in the answer as well, leaning towards the Doctor with exaggerated attention.

For a moment the scruffy little man just regarded his friends thoughtfully, bouncing the splayed fingers of each hand against the other. Then he sighed, tapping his tented fingers against his chin. “Well, I won’t lie to you, Zoe, the thought had crossed my mind…’ he suddenly had to wave his hands and talk over her incipient protests, ‘…but only briefly! Please hear me out, my dear, and you too, Jamie. You see, I actually have made some progress in deciphering Null’s records.’ He indicated a hodge-podge of cables and wires (and other, unidentifiable, gubbins,) connecting Null’s comp-chip to the Tardis console. ‘However, from what I can gather so far, I’m afraid that the situation we find ourselves in is… well, it’s much more complicated than I could ever have imagined!”

“Oh aye?’ asked Jamie, exchanging a cautious glance with Zoe, ‘so what did ye’ bring us in here for then? I cannae work yon Tardis magic, even if Zoe can.”

Waving the comment aside, the Doctor continued. “Oh, don’t worry about that, Jamie, I don’t expect you to. No, I said I needed both of you to help me - which is the truth - but mainly because I can’t be in three places at once! Allow me to explain…’ Patting the console affectionately, the Doctor quickly added, ‘not forgetting your contribution, of course!’ before clasping his hands together in a scholarly fashion. “Now then, we have a few issues to address, but I think that the first priority is to do something about the language problem. We really don’t want to be stuck here forever translating, now do we? So, I have decided to employ the assistance of the Tardis’ telepathic circuits.”

Jamie snapped his fingers in realisation as he heard this. “Of course, Doctor! All we have to do is bring Palasar into the Tardis, no? Then she will be, er… I’m sure that the Tardis will be able to… Och! You know what I mean, Doctor… then Palasar will be able to speak giant space alien as well, am I right? She’s a canny lass!”

Looking a little pensive, the Doctor nibbled a fingernail as he considered his reply. “Um… Not quite, Jamie. Oh, I totally agree with you, don’t get me wrong! Palasar is a lovely, charming, and intelligent young lady, but… I don’t actually want any of the Oortelians inside the ship, under any circumstances.”

“Eh?’ asked a puzzled looking Jamie, before asking indignantly, ‘Why not?”

“Well, there are two reasons, actually. From the Oortelians that I have met, I believe them to be an exceptionally intelligent species. I won’t go into details just now: suffice it to say that all they seem to need is the suggestion of the possibility that something is, um… possible… Well, anyway, let’s just say that I would prefer not to have them in here, alright?’

The Doctor actually looked a little angry as he said this, possibly aware that he wasn’t making himself very clear, and he seemed almost grateful when Zoe spoke up.

“You said there were two reasons, Doctor. Does the other one make any more sense?”

The Doctor cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed, then nodded firmly. “Yes, indeed I did, Zoe. In fact, Faramandar made my second point for me a little earlier, when he questioned the veracity of your own translating…”

“Aha!’ Jamie barked suddenly, rocking back on his heels and crossing his arms over his chest in triumph, ‘So you were listening in on the Tardis scanner, then!”

"Well, of course I was, Jamie!’ the Doctor replied sharply. (Evidently his patience was getting a little frayed at the edges!) ‘I only turned it off when I came to collect you two! Never mind that… As I was about to say, Zoe…. If we were able to give one of these Oortelians the ability to converse with Null, that individual would be placed in a position of great power. I’m not suggesting that Palasar is anything less than honest, Jamie, but there could well be more unscrupulous individuals involved, those who might want to take advantage of the only conduit of communication, do you see?”

“I havnae got a clue whit ye’re blethering about, Doctor.” The Highlander answered, as honestly as he could.

Zoe, who had found herself distracted by the sight of Null’s huge fingers drumming absently against the doorway’s interior, threw herself back into the conversation. “What the Doctor is trying to say (and not making a very good job of it went unsaid!) Jamie, is that if only one person can talk the same language as Null, then there is no way he could know that his words were being translated truthfully. Even if that person was totally honest, others might force them to alter - or even add - statements supposedly made by Null, just to further their own agenda.”

“Precisely, Zoe! I couldn’t have put it better myself!” agreed the Doctor, but Zoe was too busy looking puzzled to pay him any attention. She was following her own line of reasoning. “But the only way we could be sure that this wouldn’t happen would be to have a lot of the Oortelians given the ability to understand him, but you have already made it quite clear that none of them will…’

Her eyes widening even further than usual, Zoe did a double-take in the direction of Null’s hand, then broke into self-deprecating laughter as she turned back. “I’m sorry, Doctor, you’ll think me very foolish… but for a moment there I thought you were actually suggesting…” She trailed off as she realised that the Doctor was regarding her quite seriously.

“That we attempt to give Null the ability to speak to the Oortelians, Zoe?’ He finished for her. ‘Yes, that is precisely what I am suggesting! At least we can be sure that he won’t be lying to himself, can’t we.”

“But that’s completely absurd, Doctor!’ Zoe protested in disbelief, ‘There’s no way he could fit through the door!”

“Ah, now, there you are wrong, my dear - there is still a lot that you don’t know about my ship. For example, that door is not actually a door.”

Feeling a little hurt that the Doctor would make fun of her like this, Zoe was alarmed to hear a petulant, sulky tone in her own voice as she replied, “Now you’re just being silly, Doctor! When is a door not a door?”

Jamie, who had been following all this with the uncertain fascination of a man who has just discovered a half-eaten slug in his porridge, took the opportunity to join in at this cue. “Och, Zoe! Even I know that one! It’s as old as the hills! A door isnae a door, when it’s ajar, lassy!”

“No, Jamie,’ the Doctor said very quietly, ‘in this particular case, a door is not a door when it’s a Trans-Dimensional Interface.”

“Ah,’ said Jamie, rallying magnificently, ‘well, that would have been my next guess, right enough.’ He nudged Zoe - who was still not looking very happy - with a companionable elbow, confiding cheerfully. ‘You see? It’s obvious when you think about it, is it no’, Zoe! It’s a Trans… it’s a Trans… it’s one of them things what he said! Aye?” The young Scot was delighted to see his elfin friend break into a smile, rolling her eyes at him with deliberate exaggeration.

Turning an equally exaggerated frown on the Doctor, Zoe demanded. “You are really going to have to explain that one, Doctor!”

The Doctor looked mournfully at his friends and intoned, “And I will one day, Zoe, I promise. But it is very complicated, and we just can’t spare the time… Just look around, do you really believe that you are standing inside a Police Box? Of course not! We are in another dimension, separated from the reality outside by a perceptual interface. It is just a little less jarring on the nerves when presented as a recognisable artifact.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve cleared that up, Doctor!’ Jamie huffed, distinctly annoyed by all this gibberish, ‘why do ye’ no’ just call it a magic door and be done wi’ it? But even so, yon giant wouldnae fit into this room now, would he?”

“Oh dear…’ the Doctor mused, almost to himself, ‘This is why I try to avoid explanations, d’you see, Zoe? Actually, Jamie, the Tardis can reconfigure her internal dimensions with almost infinite variability, should she be of a mind to: but I don’t think that we can afford to attempt it just now, anyway. If it was just our pilot friend that we had to explain things to, I may have been tempted - but with Oortelian observers present, we would probably cause more problems than we solved.”

“So why bring it up in the first place?” Zoe asked, now almost as confused as Jamie, and becoming increasingly frustrated and annoyed.

“Ah!’ exclaimed the Doctor, beaming once more, ‘now, I’m glad you asked me that, Zoe! You see, my people have the ability to transfer vast amounts of information to each other telepathically…”

“Null isnae one o’ your people, Doctor.” Jamie interrupted redundantly.

“Well, of course, I am aware of that, Jamie. But I was wondering if I might be able to combine that ability with the Tardis’ own talent for languages… possibly to ‘boost’ Null’s - susceptibility, as it were. I mean, maybe he could absorb the Tardis’ influence - without actually having to travel inside her!”

“Would that work?” Zoe asked skeptically.

Once again the Doctor looked a little pensive, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t actually know, Zoe. You do understand that I have never tried this before, don’t you?”


	27. Chapter 27

Looking up at Null from this close, Jamie decided that he must have still been suffering from the bang on the head he’d received, way back when.

He just couldn’t explain his earlier insane attack on the giant spaceman any other way! It was a relief to find that the pilot was as friendly, and helpful, as Zoe had claimed back in the Tardis. She had been keen to assure Null that he could trust Jamie, who was acting under the Doctor’s instructions, before heading over towards Palasar and Faramandar to ‘brief’ them. Smiling in what he hoped was a winning fashion, Jamie quickly ran over what he had been told to do.

He had been deeply relieved that the Doctor had eventually stopped talking gibberish, finally getting down to basic’s just before Jamie really lost his temper. That had been, the young Scot reflected ruefully, one of his less admirable moments. Although the Doctor may have thought he was explaining things, Jamie had almost been tempted to storm off in a huff - after giving the Doctor a good piece of his mind, of course! However, he hadn’t done that sort of thing since he was a wee bairn, and so discarded the notion almost immediately. He had forced himself to pay real attention, as the Doctor got down to the nitty-gritty (Jamie fervently hoped) of his plan.

“You see, Zoe, I need to be able to touch Null’s hand whilst keeping my other hand on the Tardis console - I think...

‘Yes… it should work…’ To Jamie, it had looked as if the little man was trying more to convince himself than anyone else. ‘Well, anyway, one of you needs to convince him to push his hand in here a little further… and no, Zoe, I would like Jamie to deal with our pilot friend for me.”

“You would?” The baffled Highlander had asked, casting a quick glance at Zoe, who was looking as surprised as he felt.

“Yes, Jamie. I was listening earlier, as you know - and I totally agree that we should present ourselves as, er… neutral when dealing with all of our friends outside. I need Zoe to help me with something else, anyway… involving the Oortelians. I believe that they may be able to provide some assistance. Oh, by the way… Zoe, my dear, you did say that Null can access most of his ship’s systems from that device on his wrist?”

“That’s what he told me, Doctor.”

“Ah. Good. Possibly excellent… we shall have to see… Now then Jamie, you first I think - but do follow along, Zoe. You may have to explain some of this to Clade Commander Silandor… Although I hope to be able to speak to him directly myself, it seems like a good idea to have a plan B, as it were!”

And so the Doctor had launched into a much more understandable outline of the actual steps that needed to be taken and, perhaps more importantly, why. Without all this talk about magic doors and related nonsense, Jamie found that his own role was fairly straightforward. (And he found it much easier to believe that the giant would be able to fit one hand into the Tardis!)

When he had first ignored the mad mishmash of wires and whatnot, Jamie hadn’t noticed that the Doctor had managed to separate the chip obtained from Null into two pieces. The larger piece was wired directly into the console: the part that the Doctor had handed to Jamie connected to the larger by a long cable.

Once he had heard the instructions, Jamie assured the Doctor that he understood, and felt confident that he would be able to do what was required. (It didn’t sound difficult at all, in fact. As far as Jamie could tell, for the most part all he had to do was stand by the Tardis’ door, passing on the Doctor’s instructions.) At least, that was the idea - if the second part of the plan didn’t work out as hoped - which was where the Doctor had turned to Zoe. Jamie had listened with interest initially, keen to find out if the Doctor had had any other reasons for assigning their tasks as he had. It soon became clear that he had. But, mammy McCrimmon hadn’t raised him to make false claims, so Jamie took no offense. He was the first to admit that the wee girl was the man for the job! Not to mention having an astonishing knack for memorising information, Zoe was also from more than 400 years into Jamie’s own subjective future, and so much more qualified to talk about all that space stuff, he had reckoned.

When everyone knew what they were doing, (well, Jamie assumed that the Doctor knew what he was doing!) Zoe had marched swiftly to the door and leaned up against Null’s fingers, shouting out, “We’re ready to come out now!” It was amazing to see just how relaxed the wee lass was around the giant pilot, and Jamie couldn’t help but be impressed as the hand was obediently withdrawn. He just hoped that he would be able strike up a similarly cordial relationship - despite any earlier… misunderstandings.

“Hello, Null,’ he shouted cheerfully, pulling out more of the cable attached to his section of chip, ‘is there any chance you could get a wee bit closer tae me?”

“Please clarify, Jamie.”

“Well, this thingy I have here is part of your wrist thingy, and I cannae reach your wrist unless ye’ put it doon by me. As well as that, the Doctor wants you to put your hand back into the Tardis… And I’m getting a crick in ma neck!”

The pilot’s blank golden helmet regarded him in silence for a moment then, very slowly and carefully, he squirmed himself into a better position - lying on his stomach, leaning up on his elbows. “Is this better, Jamie?” He asked.

“Aye, that’ll do it! Now, the Doctor said that you should be able to plug this…’ (He offered the contraption he had been given.) ‘…into yon computer on your arm there. What he’s done is created a link to the computer banks in the Tardis, and this should let us… Um… Oh aye, ‘complete the circuit’!”

“This looks like part of my comp-chip!’ the pilot remarked in surprise, as he took the tethered fragment. ‘Is the Doctor sure he has not damaged it?’ Before Jamie could reply Null, on examining it more closely, remarked, ‘No, wait! I see what he has done! I believe that if I am very careful, I should be able to…’ He stopped speaking as realised that the cable wasn’t quite long enough. ‘Ah…” he commented.

“No, that’s nae problem, Null!’ Jamie was quick to reassure him. ‘That’s one of the reasons you have to put your hand back in the Tardis, to get your computer closer to the door. I’ll tell ye’ the other in a bit. But first, if you put your hand in like this…’ He demonstrated by holding out his own, palm flat, as if about to shake hands. ‘…that will work best.”

“And I will not squash the Doctor in his little box?”

“Ah, no, I can promise ye’ that! Ah cannae explain it, Null, but the Doctor always has a few tricks up his sleeve, and he reckons there should be nae trouble at all. For myself, I usually just do what he says…” Jamie trailed off suggestively, waving at the Tardis and hoping the giant spaceman would ask no further questions.

To Jamie’s great relief, Null decided to take him at his word. With a little difficulty he complied, lowering himself completely to the floor so that he could slip his hand through the still open door. The position looked a little uncomfortable to Jamie - Null’s helmet was now brushing the deck - but the pilot didn’t seem to mind. Instead of complaining, he addressed himself to the Doctors lash-up again, this time managing to plug the fiddly little part into his wrist-pad. This also gave Jamie the chance to approach closer and speak in a more confidential tone. (He was acutely aware of the Oortelians superior hearing by now!)

“Okay, Null, I’ll go check wi’ the Doctor in a minute, but he asked me to explain something to you before we try the link. The other reason he wanted your hand inside the Tardis! I don’t fully understand it myself, but he has some special gadgets and knick-knacks in there that may allow you to learn how to speak to the Oortelians yourself. Kind of like how we can speak to both them and you. He won’t be hurting ye’, we didnae notice a thing, but Zoe and I can talk to just about anybody now!”

Also keeping his voice as low as he could, Null simply said. “Zoe has great faith in both you and the Doctor, Jamie, and I have come to respect her judgement.’ A note of resigned humour crept into his voice. ‘I’m tempted to say that I’ll believe it when I see it… but I can already see that I have my hand inside a little blue box - and I still don’t believe it! Please tell the Doctor that he may proceed.”

“That’s the spirit, lad!’ Jamie enthused, then ran back to shout through the Tardis’ doorway. “Doctor! We’re all set out here! What do ye’ want us tae do now?” After listening carefully to the Doctor’s somewhat muffled reply, he returned and conveyed the instructions to Null, who affirmed that his wrist-comp was more than sufficient to do what the Doctor was asking for.

As he had initially suspected, Jamie was now relegated to running messages for the nonce!

 

Securely ensconced within his privacy field as Talamane ran the hub, Silandor was making final preparations to implement Specialist Palasar’s excellent suggestion (if Dokta was able to help,) when he noticed the approach of Zoee on his monitor. Dokta’s companion began speaking even before she drew near, and the Clade Commander was pleased by her straightforward, no-nonsense, approach.

“Hello, you two! Is the Clade Commander still listening in?” She asked brightly.

Without hesitation (or permission) Palasar confirmed this to be so, then asked if there had been any success regarding Thadokta’s attempts to access Nulls records. The young alien immediately showed her teeth, in the fashion of her species, before offering an immediate apology, looking rather distressed - if Silandor read her expression correctly.

“Oh! I’m terribly sorry, Palasar… everyone… I couldn’t help it. Jamie did tell me, but I forgot!”

The Commander was about to instruct his Specialist to reassure the child, but Palasar needed no prompting. “Do not worry, Zo-Eee. Jay-Mee also explained it to us! It is simply a cultural difference between our peoples - I assure you that we understand, and take no offense.”

“Oh, that’s a relief! To answer your question, Thadokta says he has managed to learn quite a lot, but there are a few more areas that he needs to clarify before presenting them. However, I would really like to speak to your Commander directly, to explain what Thadokta told me - do you think that would be possible?”

“See if your helmet will fit her, Palasar!’ Silandor immediately ordered. The alien’s head didn’t look that much different in formation from an Oortelians. ‘Her head may look a little larger than yours, Specialist, but remember that the fur compresses easily, and the auditory organs match ours in placement.” Even as he spoke, Silandor acknowledged to himself that the order (and explanation) was probably unnecessary. Specialist Palasar had no doubt already come to the same conclusions, she was very bright, but he felt the need to establish at least some authority over the situation. Nevertheless, when Faramandar spoke into his ear, he was able to turn his thoughts away from the chaotic images onscreen as Palasar silently obeyed.

“Do you have any instructions for me, Clade Commander, or should I continue to observe?”

“Ah, Faramandar. I have not forgotten you.’ Suddenly realising another possibility to gain advantage from the circumstances, Silandor continued. ‘Yes, I want you to observe - take no precipitate action. However, I do need you to keep Specialist Palasar informed of my conversation with Zoee - obviously she will now only be able to hear one side of it, otherwise. This is important, Ghost First.”

“Again your reasoning escapes me, Commander.”

“No matter, Faramandar. Just accept that I believe that, with Zoee’s cooperation, we may be able to present our findings to the enclaves in more easily digestible bites. They are already familiar with Specialist Third Palasar. Just remind her that I wanted her over there as a ‘friendly face’, I am sure that she will remember the reference - and explain it to you, if you require. I must go. Zoee is talking to me.”

“Can you hear me, Commander Silandor? Yes, thank you, Palasar. It is quite comfortable now. Please respond, Commander.” On the monitor all that Silandor could see was a close-up of Palasar as the Specialist adjusted the placement of her helmet on the youngsters head.

He fought back any trace of the amusement he felt at Zoee’s slightly irritated tone before replying to her. “Yes, Zoee, I can hear you loud and clear. I believe that you have a message for me from Thadokta?”

“Ah! Yes, Commander Silandor, pleased to make your acquaintance!’ came the enthusiastic response. ‘He told me to pass on the following: he has made fair progress on the records, but much of the information he has retrieved so far needs some vital, and specific, clarification… Before he can make an accurate assessment. Those are his own words. I think what he meant was, well - he wouldn’t like to admit it - but I don’t think that he recognises anything from Null’s files… Tell me, Commander, I believe that your people have been spacefarers for quite some time - do you possess accurate astronomical charts and records?”

Silandor was unable to quash a sibilant hiss of satisfaction at these words, but before the alien girl could become alarmed, he hurriedly said, “Yes, Zoee! We can definitely offer our help there. Not only do we have quite extensive charts, but I currently have experts from various enclaves aboard my ship - the Astronomer’s Enclave amongst them. Although…’ (He allowed a note of hesitation into his voice.) ‘…I must admit that I don’t like the idea of sending them over to that vessel…”

“Oh, that shouldn’t be necessary, Commander!’ Zoee was quick to respond, ‘Thadokta is working with Null to get the information he has discovered displayed on a screen over here!’ The view on his monitor briefly panned from Palasar and his brother, to show the giant pilot, but Silandor couldn’t really see much. Whatever was happening was effectively blocked from view by Null’s bulk, and Zoe quickly looked away. The Commander decided not to push for a better view - for now - remaining silent as Zoee continued. ‘From what he told me, Commander, once he is able to communicate the information to Null’s wrist-comp, it should be possible for Null to display it on his own systems. Um… Would the feed from this helmet be enough to work from, if I was to point it at the display?”

“As a matter of fact, Zoee, I do believe it would.’ Silandor replied, nodding to himself in satisfaction. His discussions with Tec-Op Imanol, regarding the capabilities of the Visi-Sphere, were to come in useful after all. ‘Even if it should prove less than optimal, I am sure that my experts will rise to the challenge with enthusiasm. Their teeth are almost blunt from chewing on frustration - the more difficult the task, the more they will enjoy it, I suspect. However, Zoee, this leads me to a request that you may find… a little odd…”

“I understand, Commander, Thadokta did mention to me that you had some concerns. Something about not wanting to shock your people with too much information about Null all at once, is that right?”

“Ah, yes, it is. Thank you, Zoee. That makes it easier for me to say this. I don’t want the pilot to be visible onscreen at any time. At least, not until I decide that the enclaves are ready to meet him. When I… when we are ready to begin the presentation to them, I would suggest that you restrict your attention to Specialist Palasar, and any screen that Thadokta manages to provide for us. She will be able to provide a commentary to those watching. Unless… Did Thadokta say anything about being able to speak to us over this… connection?”

There was a brief pause before Zoee replied. “Actually, Commander, I hadn’t thought of that. He did sort of mention something like that to me earlier. I expect, if there is a way, Thadokta will find it. Oh! He did give me a fairly detailed breakdown of what he was hoping to find by comparing everyone’s records - would you like me to run through it for you?”

“No thank you, Zoee, I think that can wait until my experts join us. But I don’t expect there to be any confusion, his intentions seem straightforward. If we are able to match up our own star charts to Null’s, we stand a good chance of discovering where - and perhaps when - he started his journey.”

For the first time Zoee, who had struck Silandor as a supremely confident young woman, seemed to falter a little in her reply. “Er, yes. That’s basically it, Commander. May I ask… do you know anything about this ‘time-bubble’ that we have been told about? Are we still in it?”

It was with some regret that Silandor - Clade Commander of the Oortelian Hegemony war mantis Indigo Flame - admitted that he didn’t fully understand that aspect of the situation. “As to whether it still exists… If we are still inside it… I am afraid that we will only discover that when we make our departure. In fact, I think I will put that question before the enclaves, if they have not already been discussing it. Thank you for the reminder, Zoee!”

Suddenly the view on Silandor’s monitor spun around, as he heard a shout from off-screen. “Hey, Zoee! Thadokta says we are ready to give it a go!’ Jaymee’s face enlarged to fill the screen as he approached, speaking quietly, but still sounding enthusiastic. “Now that Null is linked into the Tardis’ systems, he reckons he can transmit stuff into his Master Control Board - get it on a screen, ye mind? All we have tae do now is try it out!”

“Well, that’s good news!’ came Zoee’s response through the ear-buds, ‘I assume that you heard that, Commander?”

“Yes indeed, Zoee. That is indeed encouraging news! Although, I must confess, a little sooner than I had expected… I must go and explain matters to the enclaves. May I trust you to assure Thadokta that I fully intend to allow everyone to be included - although I would greatly appreciate if he permitted me to decide when to introduce Null to them?”

“Naturally, Commander Silandor.”

“Excellent! Then I shall leave the six of you to arrange matters amongst yourselves. Silandor out.’

No sooner had he signed off than the Commander opened his secure channel to Faramandar. “I trust you heard and understood all of that, Ghost First. I expect you to cooperate with all the aliens, offer any assistance that you are able to provide. Make yourself useful, and try to get a better understanding of our giant friend, if at all possible. I believe that we can make this work, Brother. Out.”


	28. Chapter 28

Inside the Tardis, the Doctor had been very busy indeed. He had managed to compile quite a bit of data from Null’s chip, scrutinising it much faster than his companions would have been able to. Of course, he had been forced to use the scanner to view it in sufficient detail, which perforce meant that he was unable to keep an eye on what was happening outside. So he had been quite surprised when Jamie had yelled past the giant hand blocking the door.

“Doctor! We’re all set out here! What do ye want us tae do now?”

“Ah, splendid, Jamie!’ (Hadn’t they only just left?) ‘I’m very nearly ready myself, as it happens. Just a few more little details to finalise…  Now, I want you to ask Null to activate the Master Control Board, if he would be so kind. We need a monitor, or screen, whatever he thinks best - to display some of the data I have managed to recover from his chip. Understand?”

“Aye, Doctor, nae problem - I’ll let him know.”

“Not so fast, Jamie, there’s more!’ the Doctor hurriedly added, moving nearer to the door and patting Null’s hand. (In what he hoped was a reassuring manner!) Speaking in a lower tone, he asked, ‘can you still hear me Jamie? Jolly good. Could you also tell Null, quietly if at all possible, that I am going to try my little experiment shortly, please? All he needs to do is keep his hand as still as he can, I believe it is near enough to the console for me to reach. He probably won’t feel anything more than my own hand on one of his fingers, so I will let you know when I am done. Just one more thing, Jamie… If it works, and he finds that he can understand everyone… I think that it would be advisable if he didn’t speak to the Oortelians for the time being, we don’t want to let them know just yet.”

“Eh? Why not, Doctor, isn’t that the whole point - so that he can to talk to them directly?”

“Well, yes, of course…. But not just yet, Jamie. I have my reasons. I’ll explain later, alright?” Fortunately his Scottish companion was prepared to trust him, even if the lad sounded a little perplexed. Now that all the ‘little details’ had been attended to - it was the moment of truth. Rubbing his hands together like a fighter chalking up prior to a bout, he shrugged his shoulders and addressed the air.

“Well, Old Girl, I’m pretty sure you know what I’m trying to do here, so I will greatly appreciate all the help you can give me. I do hope that I’m not asking for too much. I know you have had a rough time of it, but I’m afraid that this is rather important. Well… No time like the present, as we time travelers like to say… Here goes!”

Placing one hand on the edge of the console, the Doctor began to stretch out toward Null’s closest digit…

Then he hesitated.

He was actually much more nervous about what he was about to attempt than he had allowed Zoe or Jamie to realise. He still possessed some vague and blurry memories from his previous incarnation (although he tried not to dwell on them), of somehow making contact with his current self - although it hadn’t actually happened to him yet. Not only was this confusing in itself, but he also found the incomplete memory rather disturbing: he had a vague recollection of seeing himself meet his replacement - unless it was all just the result of too much cheese before bedtime!

Still, he convinced himself, faint heart never won fair spaceman: so he took a fortifying deep breath and got a good grip on a large fingertip. With both arms at full stretch, between Null and the console, the Doctor closed his eyes as his face scrunched up in furious concentration, Then he hissed “Contact!” between his gritted teeth. It was, perhaps, fortunate that no-one else was there to witness this display; as he also found himself unconsciously squatting down slightly. He could just imagine what Jamie might say - were he to see him in such an undignified position…

Nothing happened.

It continued to happen for an uncomfortable period of anxious anticipation, and then the Doctor heard the unmistakable sound of the Tardis preparing for dematerialisation! The eye closest to the console snapped open as he glared at the time rotor in horror, only to relax slightly as he realised that it wasn't actually moving. “Ah… You had me worried there for a moment! I take it that you are trying to help, but please remember that I only have two hearts!” He increased the pressure of his grip on the console to show that the effort was appreciated, nonetheless.

An interminable time passed as the Doctor crouched, both eyes once more closed in deep thought, and simply concentrated on providing a telepathic conduit. It may have been seconds, it may have been hours - he honestly couldn’t tell. But suddenly he felt a totally unexpected and indefinable… Connection! If asked to explain the sensation to anyone else, the Doctor did not believe that he would have been able to do so, but… Somehow…

Standing up straight and shaking out his hands, the Doctor was startled to discover that he was drenched in sweat, but he felt no discomfort. In fact, he felt rather good. Patting the console affectionately, he stretched out his arms; as if welcoming the universe into his embrace, and then let out a deeply satisfied sigh. “Well,’ he announced as he fetched out his handkerchief to mop his brow, ‘that was most interesting!”

Dashing over to the door once more, he checked that Jamie was still in earshot. Finding the young man waiting patiently in attendance, the Doctor passed on his news. “I’m not sure just what did happen, Jamie, but you can tell Null that something happened, and he can relax his hand a bit now.”

“That good to hear, Doctor! Shall I go and see if he can understand me if I try a little Gaelic?”

“I’m afraid that won’t do much good, Jamie, he already understands you, doesn’t he?”

“But he disnae ken Gaelic, does he!”

“That doesn’t matter. The translation circuits don’t work like that - why do you think we can converse with the indigenous lifeforms wherever we go? No, Jamie, we hear what they are saying in our language, and vice versa for them. Now that you have travelled in the Tardis, you could probably even understand Old High Gallifreyan!”

The Doctor couldn’t help but chuckle at his own ‘in-joke’, but obviously it meant nothing to Jamie. “Ah, right you are then, Doctor. If you say so… Oh, before I forget, Null says that he has established a link to the MCB, and the test signal is stable. He can either, um… wait a minute, I know this… Oh Aye! He can either ‘project the information onto the forward bulkhead, or feed it to a smaller monitor on the board itself.’ He thinks that the monitor may be easier for little people like us to see.”

“I totally agree with him, Jamie! Perhaps now I can see if I managed to incorporate an audio element into…”

“Excuse me, Doctor, sorry to interrupt…’ Jamie interrupted, ‘but he also asked me to ask you something.’ This threw the Doctor off track momentarily, but he recovered quickly, inviting his young companion to continue. ‘Well, is there no chance that ye’ could run out a little more cable? He is getting very uncomfortable lying down here on the floor!”

“Well now, let me think…’ the Doctor prevaricated. Of course, he had allowed plenty of cable for the connection - he had just been less than generous in parceling it out… Until now. ‘Yes, Jamie, I do believe that - with a little rejigging - I can accommodate his request! But please ask him to stay close by the Tardis. I won’t be able to close the door with the cable running out, and I wouldn’t like anybody to get too… curious.”

“Fair enough, Doctor. I’ll just go and tell him what ye’ve said, then I’ll be right back!”

This time the Doctor allowed Jamie to depart without further ado, and began unspooling some more cable from its hiding place in the console plinth. By the time Jamie returned there proved to be more than enough for the giant pilot to resume his seated position, so the young Highlander nipped into the Tardis, to ask the Doctor if he wanted any more messages relayed.

“No, thank you, Jamie. Let’s try this instead!’ The little man, looking even more bedraggled than usual, led him over to the console. He indicated a microphone jutting out that Jamie had never noticed before, but that kind of thing was always happening in the Tardis, so he didn’t let it bother him. With a dramatic flourish, the Doctor flipped a switch then bent towards the ’phone. ‘Hello, Null, this is the Doctor. Can you hear me? Over.”

“I can hear you perfectly well, Doctor,’ came a slightly surprised reply. (Jamie looked around in puzzlement, but couldn’t tell where the sound originated.) ‘You are coming through on my helmet speakers, Doctor. I thought that you wanted to use the ship’s systems?”

“Yes, indeed, Null! This is only the first test… and I also wanted to have a quick word with you in private. I’m going to ask Jamie to tell everyone that we are ready to try out my improvisations?’ Looking at his companion as he said this, the Doctor smiled his thanks when Jamie nodded briskly and exited. ‘Right, he is just leaving now. If you would be so kind as to bar the door behind him once more, I would like to give you a brief explanation as to why - if you find that you can indeed understand them - you must keep it from the Oortelians for the time being.”

“And if your experiment failed, Doctor? If I am still unable to communicate with them?”

“Um… Well… Let’s cross that bridge when it’s burning, shall we?”

 

Once the Clade Commander had departed, Archivist First Valmik felt as if a fire had been lit in his belly, and he was no longer particularly hungry. Scooping out the few remaining chorpal bugs, he tucked them into his robe for later (because they were so delicious!) and offered his bowl to Thraxle. The man had seemed very surprised at first, and then very grateful. Valmik noted that he was about to go over and share this unexpected bounty with the Tec-Op, when Dotalane from Theoretical Possibilities had called him over, offering his own bowl.

In fact, a renewed wave of enthusiasm had seemed to wash over most of the scholars present, and those who had not already finished their meals were nervously offering bowls to the guards. The honest delight that was displayed at this obviously rare treat had given Valmik pause. Were the crew forced to eat those detestable rations all the time? He had always assumed that on a ship the size of Indigo Flame - the largest that Fleet possessed - there would be ample room for live food storage. But then again, he had never actually given it much thought. Perhaps that was why the troopers always seemed to be on the verge of a hunt: alert and aggressive - even though they tried to behave like civilised people. As he watched them play with their food, Valmik almost - almost - felt his antipathy towards their ilk begin to ebb… just a little.

He wasn’t entirely sure what help the enclaves could offer if they were not allowed to leave this room, but just the fact of being asked - of being acknowledged - was invigorating. Valmik had decided to tour the amphitheater, joining in with various discussions that had sprung up. Some people remained seated, talking on various topics to their immediate neighbors. Others had moved into the aisles, or any other available space, to form groups discussing their own particular specialties: how they may become relevant to the situation and so forth. The Archivist allowed himself to become drawn in to several diverse conversations: all the time trying to work out how everything might be made to fit together, to offer some practical and actionable suggestions to Silandor.

At one stage he had noticed Thraxle in deep discussion with the Visi-Sphere operator, and immediately his default state of suspicion had returned. No attempts had been made to display anything further in the huge globe, so he could not imagine what they could be getting so involved in. He had decided to keep an eye on them as he did the rounds, without being too obvious, but by the time he had returned to his original place, he had entirely forgotten about them. In fact, he was so deep in thought, mulling over various ideas that had been put forward; that he was actually surprised when Thraxle asked for everyone’s attention.

“Fellow Oortelians,’ the Com-Spec had said, ‘Clade Commander Silandor sends his regards, and hopes to be able to address you shortly. However, I believe that I can offer news of slightly more immediate interest. After consideration of any technical obstacles, Tec-Op Imanol and I are confident that we can allow you direct access to the main data stores… through the Visi-Sphere. This was the Commander’s idea, as the lock-down has unfortunately separated you from your usual access. Unless, of course, any of you thought to bring your own portable monitor devices?”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as everyone, Valmik included, mentally kicked themselves for not taking the time to consider that precaution. “No, Thraxle,’ the Archivist First sighed, after a gentle cough, ‘I don’t think that anyone did. But then, we weren’t expecting any of this to happen when we arrived here…”

“Of course not, Honoured Elder, not to worry. Naturally, Imanol will only be able to accommodate one person at a time on the Visi-Sphere, so Commander Silandor has offered to provide a small number of general access devices, which should be arriving shortly. However, if any of you have data that may prove useful that is only stored directly on your own devices, please let me know. If you can provide a list of required monitors, their locations and - if necessary - permission to access those locations…”

“How will we connect to the central data net from here?” Somebody asked, just before Valmik was able to.

“We are expecting a Mech-Tec to sort that out for us - I’m told he will be arriving as soon as he has collected the equipment and tools that he will require. If I could have that list, I will action it as soon as. I leave you to sort out amongst yourselves who is prioritised for Visi-Sphere access. I have a few other matters to supervise, so I will thank you in advance for your cooperation. Thank you all.”

The Com-Spec returned to the Visi-Sphere, and conversation began again amongst the enclaves.

 

Tec-Op Imanol had proven himself to be a very polite and helpful young man. Once everyone had agreed exactly who needed to be included for Visi-Sphere access. Valmik had made no effort to bully his way to the front of the list: as far as he was concerned, everyone would require access to his archives at some point - so it was a given that he would be included. Now the Archivist First just watched as the Technician explained patiently (and respectfully) to Revelar, how his board could be operated. The boy looked a little uneasy about letting anyone else play with his toy, but that did not prevent him from answering every question put to him.

Valmik was quietly impressed. The decision to allow Theoretical Possibilities first bite had been arrived at fairly unanimously. (Most unusual, in his experience!) There didn’t actually seem to be much that the harder sciences could offer yet, at least, not until there was some hard evidence to work with. Revelar was listening avidly, looking very much like he wished to take notes for later consideration, but fortunately the younger scholar was able to reign in his enthusiasm for the mechanism, and concentrate on the content. The Archivist First actually felt that he and his fellows were being afforded their rightful dues for the first time.

The auditorium felt much more like a respectable place of intellectual study now. The promised data devices had been delivered and distributed and, although the Mechanical Technician had yet to arrive, Valmik’s fellow scholars were making best use of them. Even those who were unfortunate enough to be issued a general information unit were using them to enter their own notes and insights, for possible later inclusion. Everyone else was observing the Visi-Sphere demonstration as closely as possible: eager to find out exactly what Revelar was going to call up - when Imanol finally judged him fit to use it. To the Archivist’s disappointment - although he should have expected something of the kind, Valmik admitted to himself - the first information the Theorist recovered was the original data from that thrice damned survey shuttle. (Yet again!)

However, this soon proved to be more informative than the raw footage that had been presented to them earlier. Soon Revelar had, with Imanol’s occasional assistance, managed to retrieve the onboard logs from the shuttle itself, the readings (or lack thereof) from the various scans made, and the examination results of both the vehicle itself and its crew! Revelar was just proposing that a study of all this new (to them) information - in conjunction with the original records that they had already viewed - might offer new insights into the temporal anomaly that he suspected: when Thraxle broke the spell.

“Please excuse me, Theoretical Possibilities!’ the Com-Tec announced, making everyone start. ‘Clade Commander Silandor has an update on our progress that he wishes to share. Enteberol, secure the gentleman’s data for later retrieval, and activate the link to the hub.” Revelar reluctantly gave up his seat at the control board in favour of the hovering technician: joining Valmik, and the others who had been permitted to observe his instruction, as they returned to their seats.

Much to everyone’s surprise, the view that replaced the various data showed Silandor himself, sitting serenely in his command throne. “Hello, my friends, I have a lot to tell you all! Firstly, I am pleased to assure you that our brave explorers - and I include Thadokta and his companions in that accolade - have not encountered any threat so far. I wanted to tell you that before anything else, as I am sure that it has been playing on your minds, just as it has mine.’

The Commander leaned back into his throne, gesturing casually towards them all. ‘You may be wondering how I can talk to you in this fashion, when I haven’t done so before. Well… much to my embarrassment, I simply didn’t think of it before. Although Specialist Third Palasar’s visi-com unit is the only one aboard the vessel… that we have been referring to as the Ship of The Ancients, we do have a small stock onboard the Flame.’ (Although no one watching could know, this was actually true. Now. All units worn by evacuated troopers were in quarantine lockdown with their wearers, and Tec-Op Choltz was faithfully standing before Silandor, transmitting his every word.) ‘That aside, I am very pleased to inform you that Thadokta has made significant progress which will help us immeasurably, once certain… snags have been cleared up. You see, our party have managed to locate the flight deck of that Ship, and Thadokta believes he can access its record logs. I know, you are asking just how the Commander knows so much… Yes? Well, it’s really quite simple. They have occasionally been able to make fragmentary reports, but I decided that until a more coherent picture could be presented - I just wouldn’t trouble you with it! But before you choose to be offended, allow me to tell you that you will very soon be able to witness events for yourself.’

Momentarily, the Clade Commander appeared to be distracted by something over the heads of his audience, then murmured something into a device that he wore on his head. ‘Forgive me,’ he apologised when he returned his attention to them, ‘I am still receiving updates. As I was saying… Mech Tec Enteberol has been performing above and beyond, and has actually managed to establish two-way communications… they are just now coming online. I had intended to send him to you earlier to link you into the data-net, but this took priority. He is on his way to you now, and I think that you will be pleased with what he is bringing.’

With theatrical timing, a portal chose that moment to iris open, and Enteberol, accompanied by two others loaded down with boxes of kit, nervously entered the auditorium. It all seemed suspiciously stage-managed to Archivist First Valmik. If not by Silandor himself, then by some unknowable outside influence that seemed to be taking an indecent interest in his affairs. Still, he could not deny his fascination with what the Clade Commander was saying. ‘When my Tec arrives, please let me know - this transmission to you is one-way - I cannot see what is happening in your location. Just inform Thraxle, please. What the Tec will be bringing is a way for you to communicate with our team over there. I’m afraid that he has only managed to construct two coms units in the time available. One of which is for my own use, of course… So you will have to take turns to ask any questions - although this is perhaps a good thing. But I must advise you, I will personally veto any questions that do not - in my opinion - contribute towards a resolution. I am the Clade Commander. I will brook no opposition in this regard. I’m sure that you understand.’

Whilst Silandor had been talking, the Tec had been consulting with several of the crewmembers present, and scurrying about in a most undignified fashion: apparently attempting to locate… Well… Whatever it was he was looking for. Valmik was beginning to feel a little lightheaded, so he surreptitiously wormed a hand into his robe and grabbed a couple of chorpal bugs, feigning a cough as he slammed the wriggling creatures into his mouth. What in the nest was Silandor going on about?

‘Also, I am afraid that we do not have real two-way comms, we can only speak to Palasar, or anyone wearing her helmet. That person will have to pass on any questions, so there will inevitably a frustrating delay involved. Please excuse me again.’ Silandor now appeared to be staring off into space, as far as Valmik could tell, but soon after he nodded in agreement with something that only he could hear. ‘Yes. Yes, I totally agree, Zoee. I think that you have the view framed perfectly, I believe that you are ready… if Palasar has no objections?’ A pause. ‘Excellent! And has Thadokta managed to establish the link as he hoped? Ah… I see. Well, Zoee, now would appear to be as good a time to test it as any, don’t you think?”

Whatever this ‘Zoee’ - presumably Thadokta’s missing companion - said in response was never heard by those watching the Commander. However, The Archivist First was somewhat startled when Silandor looked directly into his eyes and said. “Choltz. Disconnect your feed. We must trust in Thadokta now.”


	29. Chapter 29

After Null had pointed out to Zoe which display screen he was using (the one she had seen earlier, as they were zooming virtually around his ship,) she led her entourage to the base of the pilot’s seat plinth. Zoe had explained to Palasar and Faramandar that they would all need to get up there for any decent view of the screen, and told them how she had already climbed it before… With Jamie’s assistance. The big soldier had given Zoe a peculiar look, glanced sidelong up the plinth, and hissed slightly in what Zoe took to be amusement. Then he had then simply grasped hold of Palasar by the thighs, effortlessly hurling her bodily into the air. Far from being surprised by the maneuver, the young woman had performed a fluidly graceful flip at the apex of her flight, disappearing over the lip of the seat.

Faramandar had then politely offered to assist Zoe’s own ascent, but she had equally politely declined, suggesting that it might damage the rather important helmet that she was wearing. (Zoe had had no idea if this was convincing or not, but she really hadn’t fancied being launched into orbit!) The Ghost First had simply nodded his assent, and then he just ran - in a four-limbed reptilian fashion - straight up the plinth!   He was gone from view before Zoe had even managed to blink in surprise! When she had turned to Jamie to ask if he had known that the Oortelians could move like that, he was standing with his mouth open, looking somewhat awestricken.

On noticing that he was being observed (and by Zoe, no less!) Jamie had immediately adopted a casual manner as he said, “Not too bad, eh, Zoe? Of course, I wouldnae have any trouble getting up there myself… But mebbe not quite that fast!” Then he’d winked at her and grinned easily, offering to help her up in a slightly less acrobatic fashion. Zoe had smiled at the young man, who had become so important to her in such a relatively short time, and explained that she had a much better idea.

By the time the giant pilot had deposited Zoe on the armrest (Jamie had declined to accompany her, saying he would make his own way up, if she needed him,) Palasar was already racing about the master control board in a frenzy of enthusiasm. Avidly examining the oversized controls, she appeared to have no trouble at all (Zoe noted enviously) with its sloping surface. Eying the distance from the seat edge dubiously, Zoe could only assume that Faramandar had simply thrown the girl over, not knowing any better. She had quickly warned him to brace himself, then leaned against the toggle switch that moved Null’s seat into its ‘locked’ position. She needn’t have bothered. The large alien had seemed totally oblivious to the seat’s movement, as he strode over to help her down.

Palasar had noticed her arrival, and hurried back to stand nonchalantly next to the designated screen.   “Zo-Eee,’ she called, ‘is this going to be alright for the Clade Commander? Has he said anything to you?”

Zoe had been surprised to find that she no longer had a connection to Silandor, and apologised for having forgotten to check. “Allow me,’ the Ghost First had immediately offered, ‘Clade Commander. This is Faramandar. I am led to believe that we are in a position to transmit Thadokta’s preliminary findings to you now. Are you ready to receive?’ He paused for a few moments, then looked down at Zoe. ‘It is in your hands, Zoee. Do you believe that our current location will provide the best view of the onscreen data?”

This gave Zoe pause for thought. Looking back up at Palasar and the display monitor, she had to concede that the angle was not too good, and she wasn’t sure just how much of the screen would be captured by the camera in the helmet. Addressing the athletic alien female, she asked, “How good is the audio reception on this thing, Palasar?”

“As good as it needs to be, Zo-Eee.’ The Specialist replied, sounding slightly surprised at the question, ‘we Oortelians have very keen hearing!” Zoe nodded thoughtfully, then glanced towards the seatback, considering.

Tapping Faramandar peremptorily on an elbow, the petite girl led the hulking soldier further from the MCB, until they were standing right up against the seatback. Turning back to judge the distance, Zoe realised that she was still too low down to provide a decent view of the screen. She looked up… and up… into Faramadar’s face: suddenly recognising that the intimidating soldier had obligingly followed her without question or complaint. “Umm…’ Zoe started hesitantly, ‘I still need to be just a little higher…”

“Say no more, friend Zoee,’ Faramandar interjected with a dismissive motion of his hand, ‘I am here to offer my assistance in any way that I can. Would you like to stand on my shoulders? It will cause me no discomfort, I assure you.”

Zoe studied the trapezius muscles bracing Faramandar’s neck uncertainly. Leaving Null out of the equation for the moment; the largest beings that she had ever encountered previously were the Cybermen, when they had attempted to invade her home, the Wheel. But they had mostly just been very tall. The Ghost First’s sheer mass was even more intimidating than the Cybermen had been, and he didn’t actually appear to have a neck, so densely was he encased in pure muscle. She wasn’t even sure that she would be able to maintain her balance if she tried to stand on those steeply sloping shoulders. “Er…’ she ventured uncertainly, ‘do you think I could try just sitting on your shoulders first?”

She wasn’t entirely certain, but Zoe felt that there was a measure of puzzlement in Faramandar’s regard, but he still acquiesced gracefully. “Certainly, Zoee. We shall just have to see what the most comfortable position for you is. Please turn around.” Fighting down her nervousness, Zoe did as he requested, and Faramandar gently grasped her by the waist to raise her up. It almost seemed that she weighed no more than a feather, at least as far as the Oortelian was concerned (which was ever so slightly terrifying!) but when he settled her into place Zoe felt much safer. Although slightly uncomfortable, the alien’s neck was a solid presence beneath her, and he was also - very gently - gripping her knees to prevent her from falling off.

More importantly, she now found herself with a much more useful angle on the screen that Palasar was lounging against. “Thank you, Faramandar, I believe that this will do just fine! Will you be able to keep me here for as long as the Doctor needs to present his… presentation?” The Oortelian just offered a slightly contemptuous sounding snort in reply, so Zoe returned her attention to Palasar, who seemed to be somewhat amused about something. “Specialist! Can you still hear me?” She asked in a deliberately quiet voice.

“Yes, Zo-Eee! There is no need to shout!’ Palasar replied cheekily. ‘I think that the Pilot is trying to attract your attention!”

Zoe immediately looked towards Null, who was clearly visible to her now that she could see over the armrest. He was languidly waving a hand at her, and Zoe felt a flush of embarrassment at not having noticed before. (How can you not notice a giant, you silly girl?) “Oh, hello Null!’ she offered as brightly as she could, ‘did you want something?” (Cringe!)

“Yes, Zoe,’ the giant spaceman replied, with just a trace of humour, ‘the Doctor would like to know if you are ready for a test transmission yet? Oh, and I should mention that this is the last time that I shall be saying anything for a while. The Doctor requests that I stay out of the proceedings for the moment.”

“Why?”

Null didn’t reply for a while, his blank visor giving nothing away, and then he shrugged. “He says that he thought he had told you, but will explain again later, Zoe.”

Zoe was about to protest when a voice between her legs announced. “I have the Clade Commander for you, Zoee. He is now linked into your feed once more. I suggest that you talk to him.”

Feeling slightly put out by this rapid turnaround of events, Zoe returned to facing the monitor, then said almost angrily, “If you can hear me, Clade Commander Silandor, I hope that you are able to see what I am seeing. I personally think that this is the best view that we are going to get… under the circumstances. Sir.”

Everyone else waited as Zoe listened to a reply that only she could hear, until she directed a question towards Palasar. ‘Do you feel ready to do this, Specialist?’ Palasar could only offer her agreement. Zoe then listened attentively for a few moments more, before nodding decisively.

Respecting Null’s request to remain separate from proceedings, Zoe yelled out (making no effort to disguise just how irritated she was getting.) “Jamie! Tell the Doctor that we are all waiting out here! He can start doing whatever he is going to do as soon as he’s ready to do it!” Then she felt a subtle trembling between her thighs, and realised that Faramandar was literally shaking with suppressed laughter.

“I do believe that I may be forced to adopt you, friend Zoee!’ He choked. ‘You are a true Oortelian - even if you were unfortunate enough to be born a mammal!”

 

The image of Silandor was replaced in the Visi-Sphere by a view of Specialist Third Palasar, who appeared to getting closer. “That’s right, Zo-Eee,’ she was saying, ‘but I have never used that function myself, as there is no way to know what you are transmitting. Bit of a design flaw, really. Perhaps you should leave it on the default setting?” Palasar suddenly seemed to retreat rapidly into the distance, until she was centered in the globe alongside a large display screen. (Taller than herself, Valmik noted.) But little could be made out of the Specialist’s surroundings, probably due in some way to the curvature of the Visi-Sphere itself.

Then another voice could be heard, presumably this Zoee. “Oh! Sorry, Commander… No, I won’t touch it again.’ There was another pause, then the same voice shouted, ‘Jamie, what is keeping the Doctor?”

If there was a reply, Valmik didn’t hear it! He shook his head a couple of times to clear the ringing, then returned to studying Palasar. The young woman was beginning to look a little uncomfortable just standing there, then she started in surprise as Thadokta’s voice emerged from unseen speakers.

“Testing. Testing. One, two, three. How is that, Zoee? Are you hearing me? Can the Clade Commander hear me?”

“Yes, Dokta, but I’m not sure… Yes, I was just about to mention that, Commander.

‘Dokta, we can hear you perfectly well, but the Commander wants to know why there are no visuals. Are you having technical trouble?”

“No, Zoe, this is deliberate. Commander Silandor, your Sub-Commander Talamane was kind enough to tell me earlier that some details about - and certain areas aboard - your ship, are classified. Off limits, as it were. I totally understand why that is the case, because I have similar concerns regarding my own vessel.

‘I trust that you understand, Commander.”

After a slight delay, Zoee spoke again. They may have been her own words, but Valmik was inclined to believe that Silandor’s own reply was being relayed verbatim. “Understood, Dokta. But why did we all go to so much trouble, if we are to just look at a blank screen?”

“Well, that’s easily fixed… I was merely testing the sound component of the link. Now that I know we can all hear each other, let’s try for visuals, shall we… How’s that?”

Suddenly the big screen filled with stars, a static image that was soon replaced by another… and another. Specialist Palasar got her head in the way briefly as she held onto the edge of the screen and peered round, then looked back and made a hand-sign that Valmik did not understand. A moment later she jumped down out of view, after Zoee had said, “Yes. Permission granted. It appears that we will not need your services just yet, Specialist. Thadokta… we are receiving your test images clearly.”

“Jolly good!’ exclaimed Thadokta, sounding very pleased with himself, ‘Well… now that all appears to working, can I talk to Archivist First Valmik, please?”

Valmik thought that was a very good question! He looked over to where Imanol and Enteberol were doing something to the innards of the control desk. The other two crewmembers that had accompanied the latter must be Tecs as well, he realised, as they were busy with the handheld devices. Unfortunately, from the way Enteberol was shaking his head at Thraxle, it was clear that his own work was going to take a little longer. In turn the Coms-Spec did his peculiar throat-talking thing again so that, after some further delay, everyone eventually heard Zoee pass on Silandor’s reply.

“That’s not possible at the moment, Dokta. Commander Silandor says that he has people working on it, but they tell him that they have to be careful not to damage the Visi-Sphere. Whatever that is.”

Thadokta sounded disappointed, even over the speakers. “Oh dear, that’s a shame. Well, far be it from me to question caution with that machine. Oh… Zoe, I’ll tell you all about it later, the Visi-Sphere is a most remarkable invention!’ For a moment all that could be heard was a rhythmic tapping, then Thadokta spoke with more enthusiasm. ‘But we needn’t let that delay us! As long as they can all hear me, and see the display screen… Er… they can, can’t they?”

“Yes, Dokta, that’s all working fine. Apparently this is the main reason that the technicians are being so careful. They would have preferred to switch the Visi-Sphere off before making these modifications!” The Archivist First blinked on hearing that. It had never crossed his mind that working on a machine that was in operation might cause difficulties, but then, he was not even remotely mechanically minded. Still, now that he thought about it, he could see how it could make things a bit trickier.

Zoee was still talking. “If it’s any help, Dokta, Commander Silandor tells me that all the data you can send will be stored in memory, and many of the people that you met in the auditorium will shortly have direct access to the… the Central Data-Net.”

“Ah! Excellent! I was rather hoping it would work something like that! Splendid!’ There was a genteel cough, then he continued, almost without pausing for breath. “Hello, Valmik! Hello, Revelar! Hello, everyone else! Now… what I’m going to do is display all of the star charts that I have managed to recover from this vessel’s records. I do happen to have fairly extensive records of my own, in my ship’s computer banks, but so far have been unable to match anything. I fear that my companions and I are much further from home that any of us realised.

‘I’m hoping that you will have more luck identifying recognisable systems, basically. It is possible that my people have never visited this part of the Universe, which would explain my own failure - although I still don’t understand how we ended up here. With any luck, if you can trace just where this vessel actually came from, we may begin get some answers! I do have quite a lot to tell you all, but I think that this must take priority for the moment. Well, here goes!”

And the data flow started again for the beginning, now including actual recordings - live visuals of a few systems interspersed amongst the static frames. Valmik was approached by Astronomer First Ixtlequay. The old woman was obviously excited, with her facial colouration mottling through many bright variations. She was about to speak when Thadokta’s voice came once more and, being one of the politest people that the archivist had ever known, she reigned herself in to listen.

“So, Enclaves all! That seems to be going smoothly! I think that the best use I can make of my own time is to study the other material I have gathered more closely, while I leave this in your capable hands. If there is anything that you need to tell me before you have a direct conduit to address me… Well… I am sure that Clade Commander Silandor will accommodate us - because we are a team now, wouldn’t you say? I hope to talk soon. For now, I shall sign off.”

Before anyone could comment on that, Coms-Spec Thraxle made an announcement. “The Clade Commander would like to add his support to that sentiment, and have us all work as a team. As the responsibility - not to mention the actual work - now lies with you scholars, Commander Silandor offers his services. If any of you need to contact Thadokta before modifications are completed on the Visi-Sphere, be it a question - or a discovery that he needs to be informed of - the Commander will see to it personally. Although… You will have to tell me first, obviously.” The man looked a little embarrassed by that rather inept addendum - as well he might! - and hurried back over to watch the Tec’s at work.

Valmik turned back to Ixtlequay, only to find that the astronomer was standing transfixed by the displays of stars. He gently tapped his friend on a shoulder, until the old girl dragged her attention away from the Visi-Sphere. “Ah, yes, Valmik! Isn’t this wonderful! We have done precious little mapping and research on this trip that hasn’t merely confirmed prior long range observations. And now this! All this new data…” Ixtlequay trailed off as her eyes were dragged back to the stars.

The Archivist First looked fondly at his favourite mentor, pleased to see her so happy. Suspecting that he already knew the answer, Valmik politely enquired if there had been any particular reason that she had come over to talk to him. “Don’t use that tone with me, young man!’ she responded almost automatically, ‘You are not too old to have your tail trimmed! Of course I had a reason! I want those for the Astronomers Enclave!” The elderly lady pointed emphatically toward the personal monitors that were being adapted to access the data-net.

Privately, Valmik was delighted to see such fire in her belly again - he had not shared his concerns with anyone else, of course - but he did worry about his oldest living friend. (Ha! When was the last time anyone had called Valmik a young man! Even longer since an adult had threatened to trim his tail! Wonderful!)  So he was very glad that he could accommodate her request… mostly. “My dear Astronomer First! I had already decided that the Astronomers enclave should be given priority access, considering the direction our research appears to be going. I was just about to suggest it to all, in fact! I’m sure that everyone will understand that those with the most knowledge of the stars are best equipped to help here.

‘However, I will also require a few devices for the Archivists, and I would like to hold some back for others whose input may prove useful. The Mathematicians enclave springs to mind. And you will have the Visi-Sphere itself! Look!” He gestured dramatically towards the globe dominating the stage.

The venerable scholar followed the gesture, but turned back to the Archivist First before she could get drawn into the wonders on show. “That sounds eminently reasonable, I accept. I trust that we will be issued with the first devices that are successfully modified?’ He nodded affirmation, and Ixtlequay mirrored his nod in thanks. Just before turning to leave, she placed a trembling hand on his shoulder and squeezed. ‘You always were a good boy, Valmik. I never did have to trim your tail, did I?”


	30. Chapter 30

After initiating the data transfer and signing off, the Doctor looked thoughtfully at the console and then the scanner - there were so many things he wanted to do. Clicking his fingers as he made his decision, he danced about adjusting a multitude of settings on the console. He didn’t need the scanner to show the star maps, not now that the Oortelians were dealing with that side of things, so he switched it back to default scan, just in case anything happened out on the flight deck. (He was pretty sure that everyone was getting along nicely, but it never hurt to keep a weather eye out, just in case…)

One of the monitors on the console would be perfectly adequate to display the information he wished to study next, so whilst he sorted that out with one hand, he adjusted the settings on his newly installed microphone with the other. “Hello, Null, I’m talking to you on our private channel, but don’t worry if you are overheard replying to me, the Oortelians still won’t understand you. I wondered if you could clear up a few misconceptions I probably have.”

“I shall certainly try, Doctor.”

“Splendid! Now, from what little we have had time to go into so far, am I correct in believing that you are of genetically engineered stock, and if so, could you tell me a little more, please?” As he spoke, the Doctor was scrolling through various records, rapidly decrypting the secure files for more thorough examination later. Null asked him to clarify his question, so the Doctor, still frowning in intense concentration as his fingers flew across the keyboard, replied, ‘Certainly! I don’t understand why you are so large, or why this ship is so huge - beyond having to accommodate people your size, of course. Are all your species as big as you?”

Null was apparently thinking about this carefully, as it took him a while to reply. Finally he said. “I find this a difficult question to answer, Doctor, as I have always taken the universe as I found it. I shall tell you what I know, but I fear that it will only lead to further mysteries: questions that I never thought to ask before. Still… So be it.’ As the pilot paused briefly once more, the Doctor quickly checked the scanner. Everything looked quiet, but that was because it picked up nobody other than Null and Jamie in the viewing range, which he decided must mean that everything was reasonably peaceful. ‘The short answer, Doctor, is no, not all of my race were of my size. In fact, the majority were only a little more than twice your own height, on average. From the way my creshe-mates and I were treated and raised - not unkindly, just rapidly and efficiently - we came to the conclusion that this was the baseline form of our progenitor species.

'We were never told much more than that we were to be the latest soldiers to take part in a war that had raged for millennia, and the largest yet. I cannot tell you why our size was important, although after talking to Zoe I suspect that it is, at the very least, impractical. The ships we flew were built by the previous generations of our kind, and though they were larger than the Progenitors, they would have been too small to operate and fly our vessels. I find myself deeply confused by this fact for the first time. It is not a pleasant sensation, Doctor.”

“I quite understand, Null,’ the Doctor replied, looking thoughtfully at the small screen before him, ‘it is only natural. It is never pleasant when circumstances force one to question one’s own assumptions. Let’s move on, shall we? Can you tell me anything about this war of yours?”

“It isn’t my war, Doctor,’ The pilot sounded resigned rather that offended. ‘None of us had any part in starting the war - my generation hadn’t even been… created… way back then. But we fought it nonetheless. None of us ever questioned why, all we wanted to do was survive long enough to win. I’m sure that you want to know what it was about - the original cause, or excuse, or justification - I don’t know any of that! History - beyond the vaguest of propaganda modules - was not a priority in our training, and none of us really cared, to be honest. You may find this hard to believe, Doctor, but we didn’t even know who we were fighting, just that they were the enemy!”

Null had been becoming increasingly emotional as he said this. The Doctor couldn’t tell if he was angry at the war… or at himself, for never having questioned any of this before. Clearing his throat into the ensuing silence, the Doctor gently offered,’ I don’t think that you need to blame yourself over any of this, Null. I strongly suspect that your people were manipulated in more ways than just genetically. Programming is an ugly word when applied to a sentient being, but it was possibly part of your, um… condition… that you questioned nothing that you were told. Um… What were you told about this ship of yours? What was your mission?”

The Doctor felt uncomfortable at seeming to dismiss the previous subject so rapidly, but they really didn’t have the time for a more in-depth discussion. A deeply unsettling premonition was beginning to grip him, as he delved further into the now decrypted files.

A stark note of surprise coloured Null’s unexpected reply, as he said, “That will have to wait, Doctor, I believe that one of the Oortelians wishes to speak to me.”

“Whatever gives you that idea?” The Doctor asked in a mixture of alarm and hope.

“The one in grey and orange has just asked Jamie to join it on my seat’s armrest, so that he can translate.”

“And you understood her? Clearly? You are not just inferring this from witnessed events?”

“Yes, Doctor, I can understand… her? It is a female? How can you tell? No, never mind, it is of no matter!’ The pilot was almost in a state of shock, the Doctor surmised, his words bubbling out uncontrollably. ‘I cannot understand this. Previously I only heard chirps and clicks and whistles, when the lizard people spoke, but now she is speaking my own language as if born to it! Is this your doing, Doctor - your little experiment worked?”

“Ah, quite possibly,’ replied the Doctor, trying not to sound too surprised himself, ‘although I can’t take all the credit… the Tardis probably did most of the work, she’s a clever old thing! But, whatever you do, try not to answer Palasar before you get a translation from Jamie! I cannot begin to emphasise how important that is at this stage in the proceedings… Um… Why didn’t Palasar ask Zoe to do the honours?”

“Zoe appears to be in deep conversation with the larger lizard… I mean Oortelian. I cannot tell what they are talking about, but apparently Palasar didn’t want to get involved. Ah! She is speaking! Perhaps it would be easier if I just ignored her until Jamie starts talking. That would allow us to continue talking, even we are interrupted frequently. Do you concur?”

“One moment, Null.’ The Doctor requested, manipulating the scanner controls until he had a fairly decent view of Palasar sitting on the pilot seat. Next to her sat a rather flushed looking young Highlander, dutifully listening to what the specialist was saying. “Right, I see them now! In answer to your question, Null, I don’t think it would be a good idea to divide your attention just now. I am sure that the opportunity to resume our conflab will present itself at some point, but for the moment, please concentrate on Palasar. Well, Jamie, really. I have a lot of data to compile from your ship’s records, and I would like to present my findings to both yourself and the Oortelians simultaneously. I can listen in on your conversation, if you like, as I work. I’ll just leave this channel open - if you have no objection, of course - and I can hear the others quite clearly through the scanner.”

“I have no objections, Doctor, please continue with your work. I am deeply interested in hearing what you find out.”

The Doctor sighed, slumping slightly as he flicked a switch that cut his transmission to the giant, then slowly dragged his attention back to the screens display. “I don’t think you are going to like it, my friend.” He murmured sadly.

 

As the Doctor continued skimming through the records, just trying to absorb a general overview of the information presented, he listened to the conversation taking place on the flight deck. He found that he could tune out Palasar’s throaty - almost musical - voice, and just pay attention when Jamie and Null were talking. Thus he was able to ignore the otherwise irritating repetition involved. The Oortelian’s questions, faithfully ‘translated’ by Jamie, proved interesting.

Jamie: “Hello, Null, thank you again for agreeing to cooperate with us. May I ask you some more questions?”

Null: “You may certainly ask, Palasar, although I cannot promise to answer.”

Jamie: “Are you alone? I mean, are you the only one of your kind on this ship? Are we likely to encounter any more of your race?”

Null (after an uncomfortable pause:) “I can’t answer that. I honestly don’t know if there are any more like me left, Palasar… Yes, I am the only survivor of whatever caused the damage to my craft, though. Originally we were a crew of six. The other five were all in the section of the ship that was destroyed. Epsilon Tau, Beta Aristophanes, and the others… I...

‘They went into the survival pod preparatory to entering isolation, while I flew the ship alone. Everything appeared to be running perfectly, all systems were slaved into my Master Control Board, and I had full access to the survival pod’s superior sensors.

‘When I was satisfied that we had reached safe distance - and were still on course for the specified coordinates - I ran a final check on the integrity of all ships systems, then went to wish my friends farewell. As Captain, it was my also my responsibility to ensure that the crew’s chambers would activate properly when I sent the signal. Of course, they didn’t hear my goodbyes… they were all sleeping soundly inside their chambers by then, but I didn’t feel like just leaving them. They all looked so peaceful… Particularly the women…’

The Doctor’s ears perked up on hearing this, and he halted the playback on his monitor. He realised that he had made another woefully inaccurate assumption on this ship - this time regarding the kind of being that he was dealing with. (Although he had yet to meet any personally, the Doctor had heard quite a few lectures at the Academy about genetically altered races or species. What had stuck in his memory the most, was that so many of them went down the path to cloning, creating each succeeding generation from genetic templates. Eventually the need for two (or more) genders became superfluous, and was written out of the code.)

This had sparked an interest in the younger Doctor, who thought that it would be fascinating to meet such a species. He had wanted to talk to individual representatives, to see if they really were individuals; and to study their thinking on many diverse subjects. Unfortunately, to date he hadn’t (to the best of his knowledge,) encountered a cloned race in his travels. (He briefly considered the Daleks, but those iterations of evil didn’t really fit the profile. He had certainly never encountered any that were inclined towards philosophical discussion!) Perhaps that was why he had so easily jumped to the wrong conclusion here. He seemed to be doing that far too frequently lately - he must keep an eye on that!

The pilot had remained silent as Jamie related his words to Specialist Palasar, and the Doctor couldn’t help hearing the uncertainty in her voice as she tentatively asked for further information. “I… I am sorry if these memories are painful for you, Null. If you do not wish to speak of your lost crewmate’s, then do not. But… and I hope that this doesn’t appear insensitive, but I don’t understand this talk of ‘chamber's’ and ‘isolation’, or where you were going, or why?”

This ‘isolation chamber’ was a subject that the Doctor was interested in as well, for Null had previously only made the vaguest of references to him about it. The giant must have used the time that Jamie had spent as a go between in thought, for he answered fairly promptly. “No, I will say their names, everyone deserves to be remembered, and perhaps it will allow me to… perhaps you will…

‘The three girls were Rho Zyanya and Anat Adastra, who were my friends from an early age… and Tethys Yaretzi, who was so much more than that. We were bonded to be life-mates, if and when the war should end, and it is impossible for me to believe that she, most of all, is gone.

‘As I checked their survival suit connections one last time, I lingered longest over Tethys - she looked so serene. They had all taken sleep inducers to ease the transition. It was part of the procedure. We had been warned that the experience might be fairly disorientating. However, as Captain I did not have that option, because I had to be awake to send the activation signal: I refused to entrust our lives to any automatic systems.

‘I suppose at this point I should tell you what our isolation chambers were, but remember that we were only ever told what they did - not how they did it. Basically, as it was explained to us, the chamber places its occupant in a state of temporal isolation. But I didn’t know what that meant… none of us did. So then we were told that it was like an advanced sort of hibernation system, but instead of being frozen - cryogenically suspended - or encoded, the occupant of such a chamber would be isolated from the passage of time. We just took their word for it… I didn’t even bother to ask how a person could be ‘encoded’.

‘When I eventually laid myself down in my own chamber, I plugged into the required systems and closed my eyes. I thought that this may in some way counter the fact that I was not actually asleep. After a few deep breaths to relax myself, I sent the activation signal. Nothing happened. I counted three more breathes, then five: by the time I had reached eight breaths I opened my eyes again, assuming that something had gone wrong.

‘And that’s when I found out that my crew, my bond-mate, and half of my ship were gone - and I encountered your people invading my command.”

The Doctor found himself transfixed by this revelation, and not only because it could well provide a missing piece to the puzzle surrounding this vessel. He was well used to translocations through time and space by now - some very abrupt - but nothing like this. At least when surfing the vortex in the Tardis, there was a sense of transition, an impression of traveling - but the Doctor felt a deep sympathy for the giant pilot’s experience. To close your eyes for only a few moments… To be aware of only those moments, whilst time went on without you…

No, he didn’t think he would like that very much at all.

Still, he now had a few new search parameters to explore, so he returned his attention to his keyboard; determined to hack through the more heavily encrypted data that he hadn’t yet tackled. Just as the Doctor reactivated his display screen, a new voice broke the heavy silence outside the Tardis.

“Oh, that sounds terrible, Null! I’m so sorry to hear that!’ he heard Zoe say. (Finished your conflab with Faramandar then, I see, the Doctor mused.) ‘I can’t begin to imagine what that must have been like for you…’ Zoe continued, sounding genuinely (and deeply) upset, ‘I’m sorry…”

“I too offer my sympathies, Null.’ Palasar added immediately after Zoe trailed off. ‘What you describe… Like Zo-Eee, I find it difficult to comprehend. I may be speaking out of turn here, but I personally would like to help you in any way that I can. I believe that this explains your response to our presence. Why you attacked our troopers… But you could just as easily have wiped us all out, I imagine - the fact that you chose not to… that was the main justification I gave for our setting out to find you.”

The Doctor smiled to himself at the young woman’s words, which he found both charmingly naïve, and deeply impressive. If the Oortelians, as a race, were as intelligent and forgiving as she - well, one could not help but hope for the future. He only listened to the rest of their conversation with half an ear, rapidly becoming deeply engrossed in the task he had set for himself.

 

Almost despite himself, Silandor had been extremely impressed at just how rapidly - and completely - his passengers had responded to the challenge. As soon as the Tec’s had begun distributing the modified access devices, those who received them set to with a will bordering on fanaticism. (Regardless of which enclave they belonged to!) He had always harboured a suspicion that civilians were, when it got down to it, all merely out for their own ends: working to advance their own personal positions or agenda. The level of cooperation he was now witnessing put the lie to his prejudice, and he was grateful for it.

Astronomer First Ixtlequay was directing operations from the Visi-Sphere itself. (To his shame, Silandor hadn’t even been aware that the venerable dame was aboard, having been under the impression that she had passed away some time ago.) The Clade Commander watched with fascination as she coordinated the apportioning of specific data to various subordinates, evidently having memorised each individual’s special area of expertise. Even Valmik seemed to be doing everything that he could to support the effort, assigning scholars from other enclaves to assist where required, and he never seemed to slow down. The man was a blur of activity!

Although the Archivist First was usually the most pompous and irritating of men, Silandor was forced to admit that he truly excelled when called upon. So far, nobody had had recourse to ask for Silandor’s assistance, but he genuinely wanted to establish common cause with these intellectuals and dreamers. He considered Dokta’s assertion that they were all one team working together to be inspired, and he intended to make it work. At some point, he realised, he would need to make a personal appearance in the auditorium - as a show of camaraderie, if nothing else.

He made a mental note to have Thraxle send Enteberol to the hub - once the Tec had successfully installed the enclave’s communications link. Then Silandor switched screens to see what was happening on the other ship, but all he could see was Faramandar. He hadn’t expected that much to be occurring in Dokta’s absence, but there were limits! “Faramandar. Report.” He demanded, and had the satisfaction of seeing his brother blink. A rare display of surprise on the part of this particular Ghost First.

“Excuse me, Zoee, the Commander has just contacted me… I don’t know why you can’t hear him, presumably he doesn’t want you to. It is not my place to second guess my Commander.’ Silandor was beginning to feel distinctly irritated by all this, when Faramandar stared him straight in the eyes, through the medium of the display screen. ‘Clade Commander Silandor, all is quiet here… I am currently exchanging cultural comparisons with Thadokta’s companion, Zoee.’ Faramandar broke off momentarily, seeming to glance over Silandor’s shoulder, then continued. “Jaymee, Thadokta’s other friend, has just joined us on the pilot’s seat. He appears to be intending to talk with Specialist Palasar. I have noticed that those two appear to be quite comfortable with each other’s company. Do you have further instructions for me, Clade Commander?”

Silandor considered this for a time, running through possible scenarios in his head. He extrapolated various eventualities, and the actions that he might take to anticipate them, but decided that his brother need not be burdened with too many variables. “Not at all, Faramandar,’ he replied a heartbeat later, ‘in fact I applaud your initiative in volunteering for ambassadorial duties… please continue. However, I suspect that Specialist Palasar requires Jaymee’s assistance more than his company - no doubt she wishes to talk to Null again. Please monitor that - I want to know immediately if anything of significance occurs. Also, ask Zoee to contact Thadokta at her earliest convenience. I want him to know that our experts are performing magnificently. I would not be surprised if they have answers to his questions sooner than he may have anticipated. That being the case, I would like to speak to him personally as soon as possible. Please arrange that. I have other things to attend to. Silandor out.”

Taking the time to make a slow scan of his hub, Silandor noted with approval that Tec-Op Choltz had taken a position that would keep her out of the way, yet still allow her to respond rapidly should he require her services. The Commander continued checking that everything was in order, and nobody required his attention. After acknowledging a confidant nod from his supremely competent Second Spear, Silandor sank back into his throne, scraping his chin with unsheathed claws as he pondered a thought that had just struck him.

If - or rather when - his closeted experts found the required answers (he had no doubt that they would - if they were there to be found,) how would this be conveyed to Dokta? Yes, they now had a sort of two-way link for aural communication, but… Did they have the ability to transmit visuals or data packets back to the other ship? Another reason he would require Mech-Tec Enteberol here in the hub, when the man became available. As he began to evaluate other possible approaches to the problem, Silandor found himself re-examining Choltz - now nibbling at a ration bar with little evident enthusiasm - and remembering.

Palasar had said something like, ‘it may be primitive, but what does that matter, as long as it works?’

Clade Commander Silandor couldn’t agree more, so whilst he had the luxury of a few moments to himself, he indulged in a little Imagineering as he considered the possibilities.


	31. Chapter 31

Having been deeply engrossed in tracking down the specific information he was after, it only slowly dawned on the Doctor that Zoe was addressing him directly - and sounding just a tad concerned! “Doctor! Is everything alright in there? Can you hear me, Doctor?” He blinked back to awareness rapidly and hurried to answer, even as he paused the data flow again.

“Yes, Zoe, I can hear you. Everything is fine in here. How can I help you?”

“Doctor! Please respond!”

“Oh my goodness gracious me!” the Doctor yelped in alarm, rapidly making some adjustments to the scanner controls. “I’m terribly sorry, Zoe, yes I can hear you. I’m using so many different communications channels at the moment, I totally forgot that the Tardis’ own speakers were switched off! Have you been calling me for long?”

“Well, not long, really - but I tried to get a reply from you three times before you answered. That was my fourth attempt, so I was getting a little worried.”

“Sorry about that Zoe… I’ve been a little busy. What did you want to tell me?”

“I have some messages from Clade Commander Silandor, Doctor. The first is that we may be getting some results from the enclaves quite soon, he says they are performing magnificently. Also, he would like to talk to you directly - the sooner the better, by the sounds of it.”

“That is excellent news! About our speedy friends’ endeavors, I mean. That will allow me to put all this together, I think. I’ve learnt quite a lot from Null’s files, I’m sure everyone will be pleased to hear. Oh! Umm… You’re not still wearing that helmet, are you, Zoe?”

“Yes, Doctor. But Faramandar told me that the Clade Commander has the only link to it at the moment. Nobody else has seen Null yet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Ah… That’s good to know, Silandor strikes me as a… careful chap, and timing is everything here, probably. But that isn’t actually what I was thinking about, Zoe. If the Commander wants a one-on-one conflab, I think I shall have to try that helmet on myself. I shall be out shortly… Would you fetch it down to me, please?”

“Certainly, Doctor! Although you may find it a bit uncomfortable.”

Manfully restraining himself from indignantly enquiring if Zoe was suggesting, as he suspected, that he had a big head, the Doctor thanked her politely and resumed studying his display. He was beginning to get a fairly good idea, or, at the very least a strong suspicion, of the answers he would eventually be presenting. With the star map comparison data he would be able to confirm one major aspect of the puzzle - he just hoped that he was wrong! He also still needed to find out what cargo Null thought was contained in this vault he had mentioned. The Doctor strongly doubted that the giant pilot had been told the whole truth.

Satisfied that the Tardis’ computer banks would continue to decrypt any further records automatically if he stepped out for a while, the Doctor headed for the door. Then abruptly about-faced and rapidly keyed in a few more lines of instructions, totally unaware that he was humming tunelessly as he did so. That done, he called out, “back in a mo’, old girl!” and dashed back to the door. Null, who was still obligingly guarding the entrance, moved his hand aside when he felt the Doctor tap it. Closing the Tardis door behind him, as much as the cable would allow, he looked around inquisitively.

Much to his surprise, the first thing that the Doctor noticed was Specialist Third Palasar being deposited on the deck by Null’s other (gloved) hand. Unlike Zoe, she had descended on the giants flattened palm. The Doctor glanced in puzzlement at Zoe as she came to stand beside him.

She favoured him with a cheeky grin and confided in amusement, “Palasar is completely mad! When she saw Null lift me down, she got Jamie to ask him to do it for her as well, but like that, and to put her back on the seat again afterwards. This is the third time. But watch this, Doctor…”

He did so, quite fascinated, as the giant easily lifted Palasar back up (rather swiftly, the Doctor noticed with some concern) but, just before Null’s hand reached the level of the armrest - she leapt into the air! As she gained an alarming height, the young woman pirouetted about her own body axis, before executing a series of breathtakingly fast somersaults at the apex of her flight. The path of her descent deviated slightly as she fell back down, but Null deftly moved his hand to ensure that she landed gracefully in the center of his palm.

The Doctor gulped.

“And you say that they have done this three times?” He asked, in a somewhat shaky voice.

“That’s right, Doctor! And Palasar’s jumps have been getting higher each time. She’s displaying a remarkable amount of trust, don’t you think?”

“I do indeed, Zoe! I also think that our Specialist Third is a very clever young lady. Now, I see you have that helmet for me, may I?’ Zoe passed him Palasar’s helmet and he examined it carefully, inside and out. ‘Ah, yes, well that all seems straightforward enough. Is there anything special that I need to do once I have it on?”

“No, Doctor, just speak as normal,’ Zoe replied, then she flushed slightly and added, ‘but… Don’t play with any of the settings… Commander Silandor can get quite irritated!”

Smiling his thanks, the Doctor put the helmet on, skillfully disguising just how much of a squeeze it was. When he finally had it positioned as comfortably as he could, (and trying not to think about how he would get the wretched thing off!) he said - in his best radio voice. “Hello, Commander Silandor, this is the Doctor calling, do you read me? Over.” He waited patiently for a while, but there was no reply, so he repeated his call.

There was still no response.

“Oh! Silly me! I forgot!’ Zoe exclaimed suddenly, slapping herself on the forehead. Turning to address Jamie, who was watching Palasar’s acrobatics admiringly from the armrest, she shouted, “Jamie! Would you ask Faramandar to tell the Clade Commander that the Doctor is here, please?”

Before Jamie could even turn around, the Ghost First leapt up beside him. “I heard you perfectly clearly, Zoee.’ Faramandar said, sounding almost amused. ‘I will be happy to do so, Thadokta, but could you first ask Null to give me my Specialist back? I’m not sure my brother would approve…”

Anxious that Null might forget himself and respond immediately to Faramandar’s request, the Doctor loudly shouted, “Null! Could you stop playing with Palasar! Ghost First Faramandar needs her!” Unfortunately the female Oortelian heard all this, and her timing was thrown - she landed badly and almost fell. Null was quick to react, however, wrapping his fingers around Palasar to secure her in his grip. As soon as she was deposited on the armrest once more, Faramandar nodded, speaking silently into the air.

“Ah! Dokta!’ came an almost immediate response directly into the Doctor’s ears, causing him to flinch. “I am glad to hear from you. I must congratulate you on your timing!”

“Really, Silandor?’ asked a slightly puzzled Doctor. ‘Am I to take it that you have news for me already?”

“Indeed I do, Dokta! I am somewhat surprised myself. We have extensive archives, I really thought it would take a lot longer to search through them… But the Astronomy enclave believe that they have found a system match indicating our large friend’s point of origin. However… there are problems.”

“There always are, Silandor.”

“Just so, Dokta. Mech-Tec Enteberol tells me that we are unable transmit this much visual data to you through our feeds. All we can do is download the findings into a storage crystal and have someone deliver it to you. Are you able to deal with our technology, as you did with Null’s”

“Well, I can certainly try, Commander, my own ship’s systems are incredibly versatile. I’m sure that I shall be able to cobble something together!”

“Ah… So be it… I shall pass that on and arrange to have the crystal delivered to you as soon as it is ready. The next issue is regarding the communications link from the enclave’s auditorium. I have been able to put Enteberol to work in the hub only because he already has it up and running. They have not been informed of this fact just yet. I thought I should leave that decision to you. Would you like me to open the channel to them now, Dokta?”

“No! No… I don’t think so. Thank you for your consideration, Clade Commander Silandor, but I’m really not quite ready for that… I need those results before I can finalise my findings, and I would prefer a little time to arrange them into a coherent presentation. Perhaps it would be best if we waited until I have actually received the storage crystal, and devised an adaptor that enables me to read it… Yes, I think that would be perfect, actually - then I might be able to inform them myself, and be in a position to tell them when I am ready to take questions. Does that work for you, Silandor?”

“Indeed, Dokta, an eminently sensible suggestion - that is how it shall be. One last thing before I let you go.  I still want to have my say about the timing of Null’s introduction. I also want to be with the enclaves when they hear and see this. However, currently the headset I am using will only work from my command throne. As soon as I sign off I intend to have Enteberol modify it so that I can do both. As I will be in the company of the enclaves while you are making your presentation, I would suggest the use of an innocuous key-phrase to announce your intention to me… although I confess none occurs to me just yet.

‘Regardless, this would allow me to judge my people’s receptivity. If I do not reply you must simply continue, until I say otherwise. Is that understood, Dokta?”

“Well… Yes, Commander, but that all sounds a little complicated to me. Couldn’t I just say something like ‘are you ready, Commander Silandor?’ Then you could give your own explanation of the person I am about to present - or not - as the case may be.”

A sharp bark of laughter preceded the Clade Commander’s reply. “Indeed, Dokta! I confess that this approach simply did not occur to me! We shall do this your way. I will be incommunicado after this conversation. Temporarily. Is there anything more I should know?”

“No, I think that about covers it, Commander. Thank you.”

“Very well, Dokta. Please inform Faramandar that I require him to return to our airlock. He is to await the arrival of Tec-Op Choltz, who will be the courier for our storage crystal. Tell him to take his time though, we have much to do yet. Silandor out.”

 

As soon as the Commander was gone, the Doctor turned away from Zoe, so that she wouldn’t see his face as he removed the helmet. This turned out to be a wise move, as it was even more of a struggle than he had anticipated! When it was finally off he turned back smiling, only for Zoe to burst into laughter. His carefully groomed mop-top was now sticking out in all directions, as if he had received a sudden jolt of static electricity.

“I’m terribly sorry, Doctor!’ Zoe apologised to her hurt looking friend, ‘I know I shouldn’t laugh, but you just look so funny! Here, let me…’ She began to smooth his hair back into a more normal appearnce, glad that she had had the opportunity to sort out her own hair before the Doctor had come out of the Tardis! A thought struck. ‘I suppose that I will have to put that back on now, won’t I?”

“No, Zoe, I think we should return it to its rightful owner, don’t you?’ Taking her evident look of relief as agreement, the Doctor raised his voice, but only a little above his normal talking level. ‘Faramandar, I have a message for you from Commander Silandor. Could you please come down here… and tell Palasar and Jamie that they can come down for the moment as well.” There was no verbal response, but soon enough Jamie, who apparently had decided that he wasn’t going to shown up by a couple  of lassie’s, was being lowered down by Null. Faramandar, having made his own way down, arrived by the Doctor before the Scotsman reached the deck. He remained silent as Jamie swaggered over to join the party, his eyes fixed on Palasar. When it was her turn to be lowered by Null, the young woman made it clear that she wanted to be thrown again - by jumping up and down on his huge palm like an excited child. As the pilot silently complied with her request, the Doctor noticed that the big soldier was shaking his head slowly.

“You don’t approve, Ghost First Faramandar?” he enquired quietly.

“It’s nothing like that, Thadokta,’ Faramandar said, his gaze never leaving Palasar, ‘I understand what the Specialist is trying to do here, and I applaud her for it. But it just reminds me… There is something that you may not understand about us, Thadokta… we Oortelians are a predator race.

‘We too like to play with our food.

‘I believe you have some instructions for me?”

Feeling slightly wrong-footed by Faramandar’s words, the Doctor stammered, “W-well, Commander Silandor does - I am simply the messenger. However, I think we should all hear them together, so that everyone here understands how the situations stands.”

“Agreed, Thadokta. Look, Palasar appears to be ready to join us, at last.”

The Oortelian female was just hopping off the pilot’s lowered hand and, after a polite bow of thanks to him, she strode towards the small group. Clapping his hands once, the Doctor exclaimed enthusiastically, “Splendid! Now that we are all here… Oh! Null? Can you hear me alright? Only I don’t want to shout…’ After receiving the giant’s confirmation, the Doctor continued. ‘Well, everybody, I have some good news to share. Apparently they think that they have found a match to your star charts, Null. They will be transferring that information into a storage crystal to send to me. That’s where you come in, Ghost First.

‘Commander Silandor wants you to go back to the entry point airlock, and wait for a… Tekop Chots, is it?”

“I know who you mean, Thadokta.”

“Aye,’ Jamie was unable to refrain from adding, ‘you mean Tec-Op Choltz, Doctor, and I’ve met her. She seems a nice enough lass.”

“Thank you, Jamie. Anyway, Faramandar, the Commander asked me to tell you there is no hurry, as they still have a few things to sort out yet.

'Null, I wanted you to hear that so you would understand why Faramandar is leaving.”

“Thank you, Doctor, I have no objections.”

“Excellent! One other thing, Faramandar, while the Commander is not in direct contact, you should talk to that Thracksul chap if you need to ask him anything.”

“Again, I know who you mean, Thadokta. If there is nothing further, I shall be on my way. I am entrusting Specialist Palasar’s safety to your care.”

“Of course, of course!’ the Doctor said to the soldiers retreating back, ‘I’m sure that there is nothing to fear on that account!” Then he looked around at the three youngster’s hovering nearby, unsure what to suggest that they should do. As he returned Palasar’s helmet, he apologised to them all. “I’m sorry to leave you to your own devices, but I really need to have a private conversation with Null. And to do that properly, I need to get back into the Tardis. Just entertain yourselves for a while, alright?”

All three looked from one to another uncertainly, then back at the Doctor, as if expecting him to say more. Until Jamie snapped his fingers and offered with a grin, “I know! Palasar here can teach me and Zoe some of those fancy moves of hers, can she no’?” This prompted a distinctly frosty look from Zoe, who then directed an eyebrow, loaded with irony, at the young Highlander’s kilt. Jamie shifted uncomfortably, unconsciously crossing his hands protectively across his sporran. “Och, weel…’ he admitted, ‘mebbe that’s no’ such a good idea… But I’m sure that we’ll find something tae keep us occupied, Doctor, dinnae fash!”

The Doctor was smiling as he eased himself back into the Tardis.


	32. Chapter 32

After making sure to switch off the Tardis’ own speaker systems, the Doctor checked his microphone. Yes, it was still set to the pilot’s private channel… Jolly good! “Hello again, Null, thank you for your patience… perhaps we could continue where we left off earlier, do you think?”

“You will have to refresh my memory, Doctor. My talk with Palasar was quite surprising. Even though she knew that I am responsible for killing four of her people, she was willing to literally place her life in my hands… I imagine that the Specialist wanted to prove that she trusted me. It was very brave of her.”

“Oh, I totally agree with you there, Null,’ The Doctor said emphatically, ‘but at the moment I need to know more about your mission and this ship. What were you told about this vault of yours? From the schematics I have studied, one would almost think that your ship was built around it. It also appears to employ that temporal isolation that you mentioned earlier, but on a much larger scale - do you have any idea what’s contained within that barrier?”

As he spoke, the Doctor had been sorting out the files that the computer banks had managed to hack in his absence. He just skimmed through most of them, but one leapt out at him just as Null replied. “You are pretty much correct in thinking that the ship was built around the vault, I believe, Doctor.’ The pilot sounded very thoughtful, as if only arriving at these conclusions as he spoke them. ‘The official line was that she is a converted bulk freighter… We only ever flew combat craft - solo fighters mainly - but there were some larger types. Such as the one that was retrofitted to this vessel.

‘As I think on it now, I realize that I never actually served on anything that required more than six crewmembers. My creshe-mates and I were never separated, always serving as a unit - no matter the ship/crew ratio. On rare occasions we took part in combined operations with other units-of-six, but I personally never met anyone who would admit to having served on a heavy cruiser, or a dreadnought. Security was paramount, of course, but now I find it curious - we often picked up such ships on our sensors, but I never actually saw one…

‘Perhaps I should explain how we fought the war in space, Doctor. Your little blue box does not look like a combat craft… or am I mistaken? If so, I apologise.”

“That’s quite alright, Null…’ the Doctor replied, still diligently studying his screen, ‘the Tardis is many things, but it is not a combat craft. She is not - and never will be - a warship, although we have seen many faces of war in our travels. Still, in my experience, the only common factor that all forms of warfare share… is that people die. So if you think it will help, tell on.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I think that you will find it interesting. Keep this in mind - in all the time we spent fighting, we never actually saw the enemy. This war was fought with sensors and long-range weaponry. Whoever had the best would win the engagement… May I tell you a story, Doctor? It won’t take long, but I think it will give you a better idea of what I mean - and also why we all felt so privileged to be chosen for this mission.”

The Doctor, who had read all that he wished to for now, keyed in a few more commands as he replied. “Yes, Null, anything you can give me will prove useful in some way, I’m sure.’ He sank wearily into a plushly cushioned armchair, saying, ‘We have until the Oortelians information arrives. You have my full attention, Null.”

There was no discernable difference in the pilot’s voice as he began to speak, but somehow the Doctor suddenly felt colder.

 

“I am completely and totally alone.’ Null began. ‘I am flying a single seat interdict/strike fighter on a routine intersystem patrol sweep. The ship is little more than a combined weapons/sensor package attached to a massively overpowered drive unit, and my cockpit often seems like an afterthought. It certainly wasn’t made for comfort! (A comfortable pilot is a dead pilot.)

I am flying in a predetermined form pattern with the other five members of my unit, but I have no means of talking to them. If this patrol goes well, I will not even pick them up on my sensors, and I will not see my friends until we return to Home. We are a third of the way out from Home, searching for the Enemy, who are no doubt also searching for us. Their solar system is called Not-Home, and I don’t see anything odd about that. Everything is black, so I have no sensation of the speed at which I’m travelling, beyond the muted display of my readouts. My displays provide the only light I can see out here in the deep black - but I can’t help straining my eyes for a hint of anything out there.

I know that this is futile, but it is the only thing I can do to combat the tension - the sweat drenching, muscle clenching terror - of a mission such as this. We are flying the latest sensor packets, packing weaponry so complex I can’t even pronounce the name, let alone understand what it does. But what if the enemy has better kit? If they can detect me from even as little as one system-span further out, I will cease to exist before they show up on my sensors. So I continue to stare into the dark, whenever I am not checking my readouts.

Suddenly an alarm flashes. The only verbal component is my own scream, but even before I realise that I am still alive the alert is over. My head pounds in time with the vastly accelerated beating of my heart, my readouts blur in and out of focus. Weapons systems were not engaged, the identification abort cancelled activation before it could even start. I try to control my breathing, and concentrate on focusing my eyes on the ident code. It was Rho Zyanya. She must have strayed from her assigned flightpath somehow.

I get the shakes.

The operational limit of our new, improved sensor suite has been predicted at ten system-spans, three spans better than anything we had previously. She should never have been that close! Slowly I begin to calm myself down, repeating to myself, ‘I didn’t kill her! I didn’t kill her!’ until I start to believe it. The logical part of me knows that the failsafe’s would never allow such a thing to happen. Well, they didn’t, did they? (The ships are too valuable.) But the part of me that is suddenly aware of the fear-soaked stench of my own sweat, the residual ticks and tremors that are only now beginning to subside…  Will just have to deal with it. The mission isn’t over.

How long have we been out here this time? Probably not as long as it feels. Tension squeezes the mind, but stretches time. One would expect the endless monotony to become boring, but the mind fills the darkness with monsters, so boredom is impossible.

One more moment of excitement...

Sensors detect an orphaned object - a vanishingly rare encounter in the void between stars. I am offered the option to fire, as this is a low threat situation, but I choose to alter course to avoid it instead. It feels good to make a decision.

It feels good to fly.

Twenty system-spans later I drop back into my original flight path. I regret that there was no opportunity to find out what the object was, but only in passing.

That’s not why we are out here.

As I confirm that I am back in the correct path, I fumble a water pouch from my breast pocket and drain it in a few gulps before stuffing it back. At least there is no requirement to wear a vacuum suit in my fighter, which would make things even less comfortable!

No, my ship’s shields are perfectly capable of coping with interstellar particles: a shield capable of defending against the kind off firepower deployed against us, however… has yet to be invented. (Unless you want to fly a planet.) That’s when it happens. Just as I’m securing the flap on my pocket.

Blink.

That’s how fast it is, Doctor. It will take me longer to describe…

Sensor alert flashes.

Target lock confirmed.

Weapon fires.

Target destroyed.

My ship has just killed something.

That’s what it was like, Doctor.”

 

“I’m sorry.” said the Doctor, the craggy contours of his face looking much older than when the pilot had begun his tale.

“I said…”

“I know what you said, Null, I heard every word very clearly!’ The Doctor heaved himself from his chair, and looked sadly at the floor, reaching into a pocket for his handkerchief. ‘What I meant was… what you went through… what all of you went through… I’m sorry.”

“Ah. Thank you, Doctor. I… I hope…

‘Do you want to hear about the Vault of Memories now?”

“Yes,’ the Doctor replied, almost under his breath. As he dabbed his forehead with the hanky, he realised that some of his sweat had followed the deep furrows between his eyebrows, to run down the sides of his nose. He carefully wiped the moisture away from his eyes.

‘Yes,’ he declared more firmly, ‘I should like that very much, Null, if you please.”

 

The giant spaceman looked down at the small blue box thoughtfully, trying to compose his thoughts. He felt a little guilty at the sadness he had detected in the voice in his earphones; but now he could understand why Zoe held the Doctor in such high regard. He obviously felt things deeply - truly cared - even when he was in no way responsible for Null’s own experiences. “All I can tell you, Doctor, is what we were told…’ (Reminded of his new friend, the pilot glanced down at where she was sitting on the deck while he spoke. She appeared to be engaged in an enthusiastic conversation with Jamie and Palasar, and all three looked comfortable and relaxed. Good.)

'There isn’t really that much to it, Doctor, so I will start with a little more background. When my unit returned from what turned out to be our last combat mission, we were directed into the orbit of Home Five, an uninhabitable gas giant that was parent to most of our orbital construction facilities. There we rendezvoused with this vessel, an ugly hybrid of two different ships. Before any explanation of the purpose of this strange, unwieldy looking craft was provided to us: we were first allowed to freshen up in the half that was to provide our living quarters and so much more. That proved just as well, because there then followed an intense - and seemingly rushed - briefing tour.

‘The Survival Pod, as the modified and hobbled ship was known, had originally been a one-unit light cruiser, but several changes had been made to its interior. We had many questions, of course, but the briefing officers and scientists - all Progenitors - wanted to show us where the actual flying would be done first. So we were introduced to this very flight deck.

‘All of the state-of-the-art sensors, all the computing capacity, all of the weapons systems of the survival pod could be controlled from here. Only when everyone was fully conversant with the operating systems were we given any indication of the nature of the mission. First of all, my unit had been selected because we were the longest surviving unit-of-six of our generation. We had the required skill sets, we had the deep space experience, and our loyalty was beyond question. Our task was nothing less than to ensure the survival of our race.

‘The war had been raging for longer than anyone could remember, but now it looked as if it was finally approaching an end. Unfortunately, given the technologies (which we didn’t need to know about) that were now being developed… Nobody could begin to guess at the eventual outcome. Nor was there any reliable intelligence as to what the status of the enemy was. Beyond combat engagements, there had been zero contact with them in generations. Given this uncertainty, a massive effort had been made to preserve and store enough information, both technological and biological, to allow our species - in all of its variations - to be resurrected should catastrophe strike.

‘That is basically what is in the Vault of Memories, Doctor… or so we were told.”

“Ah…” said the Doctor, his voice sounding rather uncertain to Null.

“Is that not enough, Doctor? All that there is left to tell is how we were taught to use our own isolation chambers - smaller variants of that which contained the Vault, as you surmised. And the long journey away from Home. Do you want to hear about that?”

“Er… No. Thank you, Null… but no…” the Doctor replied politely. “I had actually gathered much of that by reading between the lines, and I can confirm that you were told the truth about you’re precious cargo… Just not the whole truth, I’m afraid! I think, while we still have the time, there are one or two things that I should tell you…”

“Then you had better hurry, Doctor.’ Null announced as he detected movement from the ramp leading off the flight deck. “It appears that Faramandar has returned with another, presumably bearing the information you requested.”

“Oh Dear! That is unfortunate timing!’ the Doctor complained mildly. “Never mind, I do need that crystal and its contents, so I mustn’t complain! Do you have private access to your data chip, Null?”

“Of course, Doctor. Any information it contains can be displayed on the interior of my visor.”

“Perfect! Right… here is what I shall do! I am currently transferring decrypted data to replace the files on your chip. I am flagging a particular sequence for your immediate attention… Now! Of course, when I say immediate, I mean as soon as you can, as there is something that you need to know about the Oortelians… And about what some of them believe this ship - and yourself - to be…”

“Me?’ Null was puzzled. ‘But I thought that you were going out of your way to prevent any that had not already seen me, from doing so!”

“Ah… Yes. Yes, indeed…’  The pilot could almost picture the Doctor nodding emphatically, just from the tone of his voice. ‘But many of them have apparently built up a belief - from the flimsiest of evidence, I might add - that requires your existence. And I cannot deny that they were, essentially, correct. Which is really rather impressive… all things considered.

Unfortunately, they got it just a teensy bit wrong…”


	33. Chapter 33

It was all getting a bit much for Tec-Op Choltz.

Although she considered herself to be reasonably fit, there wasn’t usually any requirement for so much running about in her job. On returning again to the contact craft, Choltz had expected to remain there - particularly when Enteberol had been called away. She had been nicely settled in for some routine systems monitoring of the communications links, and not planning to leave in a hurry. However, sometime later another Tec - someone she didn’t know - had relieved her of that duty, just as the Clade Commander had summoned her to the Hub. “And bring your visi-com device.” He had added forcefully.

Choltz had never worked in the hub, never actually even met the Commander, so she had made good time from the outer hull to the Flame’s core! She had been startled to find that Clade Commander Silandor was every bit as massive and intimidating as Ghost First Faramandar, at least on first sight. Thankfully the big man had turned out to be easy enough to work with - all he had wanted her to do was visi him so he could address the enclaves. After that there hadn’t been much for her to do, until Enteberol, whose arrival she hadn’t noticed, had made some modifications to an unusual headset, and the Commander had instructed her to accompany him. “You can leave your helmet here, Choltz, you won’t be needing it now.”

Commander Silandor had taken a circuitous route from the hub, outward to the auditorium where the enclaves were gathered, so that he could explain what he expected of her next. Although he probably wasn’t exerting himself unduly, Choltz had found herself practically running to keep pace with his longer strides. It hadn’t really helped that much when she got to rest while the storage crystal was being prepared, because she now knew where she was expected to take it. Even though it meant that she might see Jamimikron again, Choltz had not relished the thought of returning to that ship. Still, she consoled herself, all she had to do was deliver the crystal to Faramandar, then make her escape.

So it had come as something of a shock when the Ghost First had greeted her with a brusque “Follow me”, and immediately marched off.

Now here she was, totally out of breath, struggling even to catch up with him - let alone keep up! These horribly huge - and apparently identical - corridors seemed never-ending! Then they passed a door that led to a steeply sloping shaft, and Choltz figured that they were nearing their destination. Clutching the storage crystal tightly, she willed her breathing to slow, allowing Faramandar to stride ahead so that she could arrive with a modicum of dignity.

She needn’t have bothered.

The stark, undeniable reality of the pilots’ seat before her took her breath away once more. Then she saw the pilot himself. Even though his face was hidden behind a golden screen, the Tec-Op was convinced that he was looking at her.  A dual cry of “Choltz!” brought her eyes back down to her own level, as Specialist Palasar and Jamimikron both recognised her. Seeing that the Ghost First had entirely lost interest in her, Choltz returned their greetings and nervously made her way over, overly conscious of the giant’s silent presence.

Seeing her nervousness, Jamimikron gallantly took her arm, beckoning up at the huge pilot. “Ye dinnae need to be scared, lassie! This is Aleph Null, but he prefers to just go by Null… and what happened earlier was a misunderstanding. Is that no’ right, Null?’ The giant inclined his helmet forward fractionally.

‘Is that yon bauble what Thadokta has been waiting for, Choltz?’ Jamimikron asked, nodding at the crystal she was holding in a death-grip. When she nodded confirmation he reached for it, saying, ‘Och, that’s grand. Give us it here, lass. I’ll fetch it to him!”

For a moment, Choltz found herself unable to release the crystal, so a rather absurd tug-of-war ensued - but at Jamimikron’s confused expression, she relented. As he nodded his thanks and departed, Specialist Third Palasar came up to her and insisted that she must meet ‘Zo-Eee’. The Tec-Op found herself being introduced to another alien, one who appeared to have a deformity to the chest. It was a very small defect, so Choltz forced herself not to stare, and tried not to flinch as Zo-Eee bared its (blunt) fangs. “Pleased to meet you!’ said the disfigured creature, ‘Jamie has told me that you were kind to him, so I am already inclined to like you!”

Choltz glared a petition for help at Palasar, who flushed sudden waves of yellow embarrassment before stepping in. “Ah! Choltz, allow me to explain. Zo-Eee is a female, just like us - what Jay-Mee calls a lassee! She has been able to gain the acceptance of the pilot of this vessel, and is very important to our negotiations. Why don’t we catch each other up on what’s been happening! This is a very exciting time for everyone!” Choltz was sure that she detected a faint note of - not alarm - but something approaching it very closely, from the Specialist.

Unfortunately, all that Choltz could think of were compulsory basic training classes, those describing Mammalian lifeforms that an explorer may encounter in her travels, for surely that must be what Zo-Eee was. Without meaning to, she found herself asking, “Do you give birth to live young, Zo-Eee?” cringing inside even as the words left her mouth.

“I beg your pardon?” Asked the female alien, very much surprised… if the expansion of her huge eyes was any clue.

“Please forgive me, Zo-Eee,’ Choltz blustered on, deeply embarrassed at her own rudeness, ‘but I just assumed that your people are of Mammalian origin. We Oortelians are egg layers, so if my manners offend, I can only beg ignorance of your… Um… What you consider polite to discuss.”

“Really?’ asked the alien girl, immediately fascinated, ‘you lay eggs?”

Choltz’ reply was stiff with embarrassment. “Well, as a species, yes. I personally have yet to enter that phase. It is not something that we generally discuss, Zo-Eee. Except amongst our closest friends.”

“Ah, yes, I completely understand. I don’t mind admitting that I was a little surprised at the… forthrightness of your own question, Choltz.’ (Was that a hint of reprimand?) ‘But I would like us to be friends, if only for Jamie's sake. To answer your question, yes, we as a species have ‘live young’ - we call them babies. And we call ourselves Humans, by the way.

'Although I have not personally, um… entered that phase myself, I know that it has worked for my people for a very long time!”

Specialist Third Palasar was deeply relieved to see the two girls fall into a more relaxed conversational mode. Choltz did not even offer a token protest when Zo-Eee invited her to sit down by the quiet giant, apparently much more interested in the alien female’s chatter. She chose to ignore Zo-Eee’s instruction to the Tec-Op. “Please, Choltz, call me Zoee, I really like Palasar, but she can’t say my name properly!” When she then heard Choltz ask the young girl a particularly inappropriate question, she noted with interest that the ‘human’ flushed a deep crimson, just as Jay-Mee had when they first met. Deciding that she didn’t want to know the answer - even if Zo-Eee chose to provide one - Palasar stalked politely over to the brooding bulk of the Ghost First.

He didn’t seem to notice her at first, his attention firmly fixed on Thadokta’s Tardis. “I want to get a closer look at that blue box.” He stated, letting Palasar know that he was totally aware of her presence. He began to march towards Thadokta’s ‘ship’ with a deeply determined expression, when suddenly a giant gloved hand descended upon him, snatching the big soldier up into the air. Palasar’s heart climbed up her throat as the First was brought very close to the giant pilot’s helmet.

To his credit, Faramandar showed no surprise at this turn of events, nor did he attempt to struggle or attack, or in any way exacerbate the situation. He simply stared at his own distorted reflection in the golden mirror of Null’s helmet as if he could actually see the face behind that barrier. Neither did he offer any surrender, which Palasar found frightening, yet deeply impressive. After a moment - long enough for the point to be made - Null lowered him back down to the deck beside her. Then, with a gesture that she remembered clearly from her days as a hatchling child, the giant spaceman waved an admonishing finger in Faramandar’s face.

The First was left with no honourable alternative: he nodded acknowledgement and acceptance of the rebuke. Then he turned to Palasar and whispered, “Well, at least we now know where we stand.” Palasar felt a most unaccustomed sensation flush through her, and could only nod her agreement.

Cautiously, she ventured, “Did the Clade Commander issue any further instructions, Sir?”

Apparently this was the wrong thing to ask, as Faramandar towered over her with unexpected ferocity, displaying his killing teeth in a terrifying threat response. “Aarghh!’ he roared at her, ‘I am kept in the dark and fed on worm droppings! This is not the way to treat a soldier!’ Palasar, genuinely fearing for her life, automatically fell into a defense posture, and this seemed to bring Faramandar back to his senses.

‘My apologies, Specialist,’ he offered, cautiously laying a reassuring hand on her quivering shoulder. ‘My anger is not directed at you, believe me. I gave my word to a friend that I would protect your life - but my orders forced me to abrogate that oath! I take my honour very seriously, Palasar. I would not see any harm come to you - particularly not by my own claws. You may rest assured on that.”

Suddenly overwhelmed, the Specialist turned her back on the soldier, hoping that he hadn’t noticed the unexpected patterns of interest that she was sure were illuminating her face. This was far too early. She was much too young! But… He was a magnificent male! With an effort that surprised her, Palasar asked, “So what do we do now?”

“About what?” Faramandar replied, his voice carefully noncommittal.

She cringed inside. She wanted to curl into a fetal ball and embrace the comfort of her egg-sac. He had noticed! But Palasar refused to fall back into old habits, habits that she believed she had discarded once setting out on this remarkable journey. Gathering her courage, Palasar turned back to face him and, regardless of what her face might be saying, demanded, “About this, Sir!

‘Personally, I don’t see what we can achieve here until Thadokta deigns to grace us with his presence. Do you have any suggestions, Ghost First Faramandar?”

“Actually,’ the First replied thoughtfully, ‘I do. My brother has told me just how much regard he has for you personally, and that he considers you to be a… a friendly face. Someone that the enclaves can fixate on, or relate to, however you choose to phrase it. I begin to see what he means. I know that, at some point, he wants to introduce this…’ He waved vaguely at Null, but seemed unable to express himself any further. “I think, now that Tec-Op Choltz is here, perhaps we have an opportunity. When Thadokta and the Clade Commander finally decide that our ‘Honoured Elders’ are ready to meet… That…

'The thought occurs that the rapport you have so far built may be… useful. Perhaps we can use the time while we wait for Thadokta most usefully by discussing our options.”

Palasar, almost overwhelmed by inopportune sensations, could only grasp at this lifeline as Jay-Mee returned, and she beckoned Faramandar to follow her as she rejoined her friends.

 

The atmosphere was much more convivial in the auditorium, now that everyone had something to work on. Silandor had dismissed the guards after Tec-Op Choltz had been dispatched, with the information rich storage crystal clutched nervously to her chest. He doubted that any of the scholars and intellectuals present would even want to leave now - not even for a call of nature! The Clade Commander had listened with interest to various discussion groups, as they considered a bewildering array of ideas and possibilities - many of which had little bearing on the matter at hand, as far as he could tell. But then, as he himself had suggested that they should make use of the data-net, whilst waiting on Thadokta’s next appearance, he shouldn’t have been surprised.

In truth, Silandor hadn’t really expected many of them to comply - given the nature of their discovery - but he had received unexpected support from Astronomer First Ixtlequay, who had wanted her enclave to check, and check, and recheck, their findings. Also from Valmik! The Archivist First had pointed out to his colleagues that - instead of everyone arguing over the same details again and again - the time could be more profitably used.

If each enclave were to consider aspects that related specifically to their own specialty, a great deal of ‘doubling up’ would be avoided. Silandor intended to offer some acknowledgement of their earlier - most timely - assistance; but as he approached the stage once more, he saw that Valmik now appeared to be having a subdued argument with Ixtlequay.

This concerned Silandor momentarily, but as he got closer, he could hear what the Archivist was actually saying, and the old woman’s reluctant acceptance of assistance. With a respect that the Clade Commander would not have believed Valmik capable of, the archivist began to escort her away from the Visi-Sphere. Silandor had time for a thoughtful perusal of the image frozen in the great globe, just before they arrived by the steps. “Honoured elder,’ he said, as he offered his arm, ‘please allow me to help you down.”

The old lady stopped berating the Archivist First and blinked at Silandor, perhaps surprised that she was face-to-face with him. “I’m not an invalid, young man! Why will nobody believe that?’ But she took his arm anyway, studying his face intently. The Clade Commander assumed at first that, perhaps due to aging eyesight, Ixtlequay had only just recognised his rank. He was soon disabused of that notion.

“Did I say Young Man? You’ve barely shed your tail! I shall be having words with the Commander of this vessel, I assure you, as soon as I get the opportunity! We can’t have children running around a working ship!

‘Even if they are built like burden beasts…”

Silandor somehow got the impression that he was being teased. (He wasn’t entirely sure, it being an experience that he was unfamiliar with!) Nevertheless, he was extremely careful as he supported Ixtlequay towards the deck of the auditorium.  Not only was she as delicate as an Avian Swoopthopter, but she would accept no more than the most token of assistance - slapping his hand away and scolding him soundly when he offered to just  lift her down! He was deeply impressed! Valmik, who had been hovering nervously the whole time, gave Silandor a look that contained both amusement and pride, as he resumed his care of the legendary astronomer.

Looking towards the Visi-Sphere again, Silandor realised that he hadn’t heard from Faramandar, not since his brother’s terse announcement that the crystal had been given to Dokta. He cursed himself. Perhaps Faramandar had been trying to contact him, but Silandor had allowed himself to become distracted, after leaving his headset behind. But no… That didn’t make any sense. He had left it in the care of Imanol at the Visi-Sphere controls - The Tec would have been sure to alert his Commander of any message. Tec-Op Imanol noticed Silandor’s scrutiny, and made to rise. The Clade Commander nodded confirmation, so the boy marched smartly over to return the headset, saying only, “No messages, Sir!”

Accepting both report and headset, Silandor waved the operator back to his duty station, then turned so that he could sit on the edge of the stage. “Faramandar. Silandor. Report.” Expecting an instant response, he was very surprised to find that he had to repeat himself. “Faramandar? Can you hear me? Report!”

“…Apologies, Clade Commander. Thadokta has just informed us that, as well as having been able to access the crystal, he has given Aleph Null the ability to speak to us. The giant was just now talking to me - in perfect Oortelian.

'I was a little surprised.”

“How?” Silandor demanded, annoyed by his brother’s penchant for understatement.

“Not entirely sure, Sir, Thadokta was deliberately vague. Evidently it has something to do with a device he has in his ship…”

“Why not us?”

“Ah… Now that has been explained to me… quite emphatically! Evidently Thadokta does not want us to get too near his blue box.”

“Blue Box?”

“His ship is a… a small blue box, Commander.”

Silandor added these bizarre snippets of information to the ever-increasing list of subjects that he wished to discuss with Dokta, when he eventually returned to the Indigo Flame. “Give me a proper report, Faramandar! What is the status over there?”

“Yes, Sir. Wait one…’ (The Clade Commander allowed the Ghost First a moment to collect his thoughts.) ‘Faramandar reporting. We should soon be able to initiate contact with yourself and the enclaves, Sir. Thadokta and the other humans…”

“Humans?” Silandor interrupted sharply.

“Yes, Sir. Tec-Op Choltz says that… Zoee told her that… this is what these aliens call themselves, Sir.”

“Understood. Continue.” 

“Thadokta and his companions, along with Choltz and Specialist Palasar, are making… Theatrical arrangements is probably the best way to put it, Sir. Null is viewing decrypted information from his own files, provided by Thadokta. At least, that is what he told me earlier. I see no evidence that he is doing anything at all. As I said, we should be ready soon, Commander.”

“Very well, Faramandar. I shall stay on your channel for now. Please inform Thadokta that I await him. Silandor out.” He sat there pondering for a few moments. The startling news that the giant pilot could now speak Oortelian was disturbing. Of course, it would certainly streamline the communications process… Not having to rely on Dokta or one of his friends to translate, but… Would they attempt to leave, once they were sure that they were no longer needed? Could they leave? Was it even possible to take off from inside another ship, with no visible means of egress? Dokta had professed to have no understanding of how they had arrived on Null’s flight deck!

Shaking his head in annoyance - more at himself than anything else - Silandor stood. There were more immediate concerns to deal with. “Archivist First Valmik,’ he called over the heads of those seated between them. ‘May I have a moment of your time, please?”


	34. Chapter 34

When Faramandar alerted him that everyone was prepared aboard Null’s ship, Silandor was satisfied that his experts were equally ready, not to say eager...

It had taken a little bit of shuffling about and seat swapping, but now the speakers - those that each enclave had put forward - were waiting in the seats closest to the stage. This was so that Enteberol’s communications wand could be passed between them more easily, of course - but the Commander also hoped that this arrangement would nurture a little more… Discipline was, perhaps, too strong a word… Decorum would suffice. He had declined politely when, most unexpectedly, Valmik had offered to relinquish his own seat to him. The Archivist First had claimed that he wouldn’t mind standing!

Of course, Silandor had thanked the man, but refused nonetheless. (It would have been just too uncomfortable, for everyone involved, if he had tried to squeeze his bulk in amongst them. Also, even though the seating in the amphitheater rose in tiers, it seemed inevitable that he would block the view for someone!) He had mentioned none of this, however, simply suggesting that he didn’t need a seat. This was true enough - he had proved it by sitting down in the aisle. Now the Commander rose to his feet once more, with a grace belying his bulk, and took great satisfaction in calling for everyone’s attention.

“I have just received the news we have been waiting for!’ Silandor declaimed as all activity ceased. He signaled to Tec-Op Imanol, who became very busy preparing his machine, then switched channels on his headset. “Hello, Thadokta, this is Clade Commander Silandor, can you hear me? I am talking to you from the enclave’s auditorium, over.”

On the Visi-Sphere, the image coalesced into a head and shoulders view of the remarkable little alien, who was nodding in apparent satisfaction. “Ah, yes, Commander, I hear you, I seem to have managed to get everything working! Can you still see me?”

“Perfectly well, Thadokta.”

“Oh, splendid! Jolly good… Ah, now please don’t think that I am casting aspersions, Commander, but obviously I can’t see you. I can only see Tec-Op Choltz - no offense, my dear! - Perhaps I could have a word with Archivist Valmik now?”

Silandor wordlessly turned to the Archivist with a nod. The scholar reached for the communicator, which Thraxle was holding towards him, speaking almost before he had it in his grasp. “Hello, Thadokta! Yes, everything is as the Commander says. We are all still in the amphitheater where you visited us. Everyone can see and hear you on the Visi-Sphere, and now it appears that we can talk to you as well! Er… Assuming that you are hearing this, of course.”

“Yes, Valmik, it looks like the Commander and his people have done a splendid job! Um… Tell me… are you still under armed guard?”

This appeared to throw the Archivist First for a moment. “Um… I really don’t know, Thadokta. I had completely forgotten about them.’ He craned his neck to examine the exits that he could see, then returned the communication wand to his face. “No, Thadokta. It’s funny - I didn’t notice them leave!”

“Thank you, Valmik! That is very good to hear! Clade Commander, I hope that you understand why I had to ask these questions?”

“Of course, Thadokta, simply a wise precaution on your part.’ Silandor sounded perfectly calm, as usual, but he was actually slightly taken aback at Dokta’s audacity. ‘I hope that your concerns have been put to rest. Perhaps now we can get on with it, do you think?”

“Of course! Of course!’ Thadokta replied, nodding rapidly. ‘But allow me to make a few explanations first please, everyone. You see, everything that I am about to tell you, I have derived from this ship’s records, but I have had to do a little… Reading between the lines, as it were. I therefore cannot offer any guarantees that I am one hundred percent correct. Also, I was only really able to confirm my suspicions when I studied you star charts. Excellent work by the way - thank you very much!

‘In fact, I think that this would be the best place to start, actually! Now then, Choltz, as we practiced, please.’ The view suddenly lifted up rapidly, giving the impression that Thadokta had dropped out of the bottom of the Visi-Sphere. ‘Oh my goodness!’ came his disembodied voice, only adding to the illusion. ‘I must say that your crew are exceedingly agile, Clade Commander!” They were now looking at the same flat display screen as before. Ixtlequay raised a hand instantly.

“Thadokta, Astronomer First Ixtlequay, would like a word.” Silandor announced, indicating to Thraxle that he should take the wand to her.

“Ah! Astronomer Ishtleekey, I take that it is the hard work of yourself, and your enclave, that I am indebted to! Please, do go ahead.”

“I know what you are going to show us, young… Excuse me, I mean, Thadokta!’ The old lady looked a little flustered at her slip, but carried on regardless. ‘But I fail to understand why we must look at a three-dimensional representation of a two-dimensional screen. We have all the relevant records, and a far superior display system.”

“Indeed you do, Madam!’ (How had he deduced that? Silandor wondered.) ‘I have seen the Visi-Sphere for myself, as you must know - a remarkable device indeed! Please come down from there, Choltz, I would like to explain this.’ Thadokta popped back into view just as rapidly as he had disappeared, looking rather wide-eyed. After he recovered himself, he continued. ‘Well, Astronomer First… everybody… whilst I’m sure your star maps look very impressive on that big globe of yours, unfortunately I can’t see them from here. And before you suggest that I simply tell you what images to display, I’m afraid that I had to derive my own nomenclature for various files, just to keep everything straight in my head.

‘That being the case, I have had to make a few, um, modifications to these systems - so I don’t have to keep running back to my own ship all the time! Basically, you could say that I now have a… an automatic pilot to navigate the files for me, although it would probably be more accurate to just say that it responds to my voice. Um… Was that clear enough for everyone?”

“Thank you, Thadokta.’ Ixtlequay replied, ‘I do have more questions, but they can wait. You may proceed.”

“Too kind, too kind!’ Thadokta replied, sounding genuinely pleased, ‘Then let us, as you say, Astronomer First… Proceed!”

“I am well aware that you will be familiar with these initial images,’ came Thadokta’s voice from the speakers, ‘but please bear with me.’ He was occasionally issuing a voice instruction, to advance to a particular file, but mainly he just narrated. ‘I wanted to start at the beginning, as it were. Anyway, everything I have just displayed was completely unfamiliar to me, there was nothing that I recognised! I managed to follow the clues back, to the star system that this Ship came from… (Display Dok file one five.) … And narrow it down to two possible candidates. That rather depends on other data - which I will get to later.”

The display now showed a large area of space, containing several anonymous solar systems, as viewed from a great distance. Suddenly an artificial graphic element, a blinking cursor, appeared from off-screen. The view followed the cursor, and some of the systems being approached were highlighted. The motion was quite rapid, evidently accelerated by some computer trickery, and soon only two systems remained. Each was highlighted alternately, but the cursor remained steadily blinking in the center of the screen. Thadokta had been adding a few comments as this played out, but this was what he had really wanted to discuss.

“Now, as you can see, the trail ends quite some considerable distance from either of our candidates! But… By matching up the systems we have just passed, to those shown in your own records… (Overlay Dok file one six, final frame.) …We get - this!’ He paused only briefly, allowing a token moment of consideration, before saying, ‘So… Since all of this is based on the sterling work of your own experts - would anyone care to tell me what it is?”

The image was one that everyone knew well. In stunning hues of aquamarine and magenta, shading through with crimson filaments, a colossal hand hung in the void. That was simply a conceit, of course, but Silandor was well familiar with the talons that seemed to be reaching out towards him. “We call it the Razorclaw Nebula, Thadokta. Thraxle, please return the wand to Astronomer First Ixtlequay.”

“Yes, Thadokta, he is correct. The Razorclaw Nebula is the most distant object that our most far-seeing instruments have, to date, been able to detect - with any meaningful degree of scientific accuracy, that is to say… Thadokta, this cannot possibly be the origin of that ship!’ Ixtlequay sounded quite irritated, as if she was under the impression that she was dealing with a fool, but was too polite to mention it. ‘We have, in conjunction with the Mathematician’s enclave, conclusively proved that the light from this nebula - it has taken over five billion years to reach us!”

“I quite understand your skepticism, Ishtleekey, but I hope to be able to explain myself as we go along. That nebula is… was… er, never mind. Let’s just say that we are looking at the afterimage of an ancient - if you will forgive the term - catastrophe. Before I go any further, may I ask how long it takes Oortelia to complete one orbit around your home star?”

“What? Well, a year, of course!”

“Mmm… Naturally. The question isn’t as foolish as it sounds, I promise! I am trying to establish how your people actually measure time. I may be wrong, but it seems to me that you use decimalised time, not as an intellectual exercise, but as a function of perceived reality. Am I correct?”

“I’m sure I haven’t got the faintest idea what you are talking about, Thadokta! Let me pass you over to Mathematician First Thariferon.”

“Ah, hello, Thadokta… pleasure and all that. One question - what does decimalised mean, I am unfamiliar with the term?”

“Subdividing measurements into units of ten, Mathematician First.”

“Really! You have a name for that? But that is just how time works - always has done, as far as I know!” The mathematician sounded amused.

“Ah, I see… I think. Are you telling me that on your home world, all arbitrary markers for breaking time down into manageable units - sunrise, sunset, seasonal change, etc. All of that can be subdivided or multiplied by ten?”

“But, of course, Thadokta! How else is one to measure time? Or anything else, for that matter?”

“Forgive me, Thariferon. I just find it difficult to equate the… the chaotic nature of the universe, with the apparent mathematical precision of your own solar system. I don’t suppose that you have ever given any thought to the matter?”

Thariferon considered the question for a few moments, and then sighed. “I’m sorry, Thadokta, it is what it is, as far as I’m concerned. Only the Theologians have ever bothered to consider such matters and, although I am not personally a believer, I imagine that their answer should suffice.

'If God does, or ever did exist - then he, she or it… is a mathematician!”

“Ah…” said Thadokta.

Becoming increasingly annoyed by this apparently irrelevant digression, Silandor raised a hand to forestall Thariferon, before saying, “Are you going anywhere with this, Thadokta?”

“Evidently not, Commander,’ came the somewhat dejected response. ‘Come down again, Choltz.’ As Thadokta rose into view, (much more smoothly this time, as if the Tec was being lowered on a platform,) he continued speaking. ‘Tell me, Commander, do all of your colony worlds use exactly the same time intervals as the home world?”

“Well… Yes, of course - but obviously we have to adapt them. A day, for example, will consist of more, or less Tendecad’s than on Oortelia itself. It all depends on the planet’s location in relation to the star it orbits - surely there is nothing unusual about that?”

Thadokta raised a finger to deliver his point. “But what if you had found any intelligent life-forms on a planet - do you think that they would use your system? I very much doubt it! I’m sure that like, for example, myself and my companions - their measurements of time would be influenced differently. This may not matter too much when we are only talking of days - but the discrepancies will expand exponentially. When, as we must here, one factors in the speed of light - and not just one lightyear, but five thousand million - well…’ He paused for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, then sighed. ‘Forgive me, everyone, I was being selfish. I had hoped to get some idea of… of how long ago all of this happened, relative to my own terms of reference. Obviously that won’t be possible.”

The Clade Commander flicked an irritated glare at someone waving frantically for his attention. Then he recalled the man’s name, but chose to ignore him for the moment. “Well then, Thadokta, I don’t wish to belittle your concerns, but may I take it that we can move on now?”

“Indeed, Commander.” The little alien responded glumly.

“In that case, I believe that Theoretical Possibilities First Revelar would like to speak to you.”

“No!’ Thadokta nearly shouted, turning in the Visi-Sphere so that he - almost - seemed to be looking right at the theorist. ‘I’m sorry, Revelar, but I don’t have time for this discussion right now. I know what you’re thinking, and yes, what we talked about earlier will have some… considerable bearing on the matter. However, not quite in the way that you may be thinking. I will get to you in due course, I promise, but I want to talk about something else for now.’ Suddenly Thadokta clapped his hands, rubbing them together briskly, as he turned face-on again to the visi-com Choltz wore. ‘Thank you all for your patience! I expect that there will be much to discuss afterwards, but allow me to run through my conclusions…

‘Firstly, I believe that your Razorclaw Nebula is, indeed, the remaining evidence of the two star systems that we originally found. A catastrophic event caused one of those stars to go supernova, while the other collapsed into a singularity - a black hole. Furthermore, I very much doubt that this was a natural occurrence! You see, those two systems were engaged in an interstellar war!

‘I don’t need to show you anything on the screen for this, although there are reams of data that may become available for later study. I will simply summarise what I gathered from skimming through. Again, I must remind you that I have done a little reading between the lines, as the records here only tell one side of the story. If anyone has any questions…

'Please save them for later, if you would be so kind! 

‘Actually, there is no way of telling why, or even when, this war started - although I think we can safely assume that it ended five billion of your years ago. All I know is that it must have lasted for a very long time, because the side that built this ship had the time to create… Well, larger versions of themselves, basically.”

A ripple of surprise washed across the amphitheater at this, and murmured comments and reactions began, but any nascent conversations were abruptly curtailed. (Silandor was impressed, and quietly encouraged, at how calmly the audience were taking all this.) Thadokta was still speaking, and nobody wanted to miss what he had to say.

“I’m talking about genetic modification and manipulation, obviously - but their baseline form, I think, would have been…’ He gazed thoughtfully out of the Visi-Sphere, as if looking over everyone’s shoulders. ‘At a rough guess, about one and a half times as tall as Clade Commander Silandor. Over the course of the war, their modified creations grew increasingly larger. Now… I was unable to find any mention as to why, or indeed, how this was achieved. Why did these people need larger and larger ships to fight their war, and why did they crew them with larger and larger people? I honestly don’t know! I’m sure that these records will provide many years of study and speculation. Should you get access to them…

‘But I want to move on to the mission that this ship was on. It will, I’m sure, be of great interest to you all. To all intents and purpose, it is a life raft. A time capsule… by which I mean something to be stored, until reopened at a later date. I want to show you something.

'Choltz, the screen, if you please? I have seen the images that you captured of this ship, so I know how it looks now. (Display Dok file three.)

‘This is what it looked like when it set out!”

On the screen, the vessel was transformed. Although the lower half was clearly recognisable, the fact that there even was an upper half came as quite a shock to most. It was another ship, obviously permanently attached. Although not much smaller than the ‘original’ ship, it was of a much sleeker design - as if a fast hunting beast had been forced to carry burden. (Silandor shuddered at the thought, but only on the inside.)

“As you can clearly see, not all of the craft survived to arrive here. Commander Silandor, how many crew do you have on the Indigo Flame?”

“The normal compliment is two thousand, Thadokta, but we have representatives from many enclaves aboard for this mission, of course. Why do you ask?”

“Well, it may - or perhaps it mayn’t - surprise you all to know, that this combined craft had a crew of six!

‘I don’t mean six thousand - I mean six!

‘I’m sure everyone is bursting with questions by now. I shall accommodate you soon, but please bear with me just a tad longer. I just want to tell you one more thing - this will interest you, I expect, Revelar! You see, the crew entered a form of deep-sleep, or stasis, that they knew as ‘temporal isolation’. If, somehow, the part of the ship we have here was… um… ‘Shunted’ outside of time and space by, say, some kind of temporal explosion…

‘Perhaps it is possible that shrapnel from that explosion could have, er… re-entered our reality at random times and locations.

'Comments, Revelar?”


	35. Chapter 35

Silandor was beginning to pay attention more to the people around him, than to the Visi-Sphere display itself. He noted that Revelar looked as if he had been gut-punched as he took the coms-wand. “Are… Are you saying that we really have found a Ship of The Ancients, Thadokta?” The theorist rasped.

“No, Revelar. I am suggesting that this may be a possible explanation for the fossil fragment’s, and the debris, that your people have discovered over the years. I’m afraid that I cannot possibly comment on any - conclusions - that the Oortelian species may have arrived at based on such evidence.” (Good answer, Dokta, Silandor thought to himself.)

“Ah, yes, Thadokta. I quite understand. But then, didn’t you just infer that this ship employed some form of time travel? I mean, you seemed to be agreeing with my theory, for a moment there.”

“Well, yes and no, my friend.’ (Silandor took a quick look at the Visi-Sphere. Dokta was once again centered in the view.) ‘You see, this vessel’s very presence here seems to indicate the existence of a… a realm outside of existence. I mean… even if these people had mastered light speed velocities, it would still have taken this ship five billion years to get to its current location, would it not? Also, you must note that it only advanced forward in time, and that this certainly wasn’t a planned, or controlled, excursion!”

The Clade Commander allowed the words to tune out of his awareness. Not that it wasn’t interesting, but he was more interested in judging the mood of the room. He was sure that he would pick up on anything that seemed particularly important. From his position, still seated in the aisle adjacent to Valmik’s seat, Silandor could only see those not obscured by the Visi-Sphere, and the stage upon which it stood. This presented no difficulties, however - he had other senses to call on. The general atmosphere was calm and collected, with an electric tang of intellectual fascination… Curiosity… Anticipation.

For the first time, Silandor became consciously aware of just how relaxed he currently felt in this company. His previous experiences with the enclaves in general, and certain individuals in particular, had mostly been adversarial. Silandor had always been supremely aware of the distaste and distrust that civilians exuded, when confronted with the military - himself most of all. However, he was honest enough, at least with himself, to acknowledge that he tended to react aggressively to such sensations - no doubt exacerbating the tension! Now, he could see these - very clever people - actually doing what they had come out here for, and the change in their general demeanor was remarkable.

Without knowing why, Silandor found himself listening to Dokta again, even as he continued to study those around him.

“Yes, I tend to agree with you there, Revelar. It does seem very likely that the ‘time bubble’ anomaly that your people discovered was indeed another effect from the accident… Sabotage… Enemy action, whatever. I would even go so far as to suggest more…”

After an uncomfortable pause, Revelar cleared his throat. “Er… Please do, Thadokta!”

“Oh, sorry, old chap! I was just ordering my thoughts. I’m wondering if this ship may have arrived here much longer ago than you suspect. Perhaps even before Oortelians existed! It’s just a thought, but what if it re-entered our universe protected within a much larger bubble of, um… ‘Slow time’? I imagine that this would have… dissipated… gradually, over the millennia - reaching the point of almost having evaporated entirely, by the time of your arrival.”

“That seems a little convenient, Thadokta. And, if you will excuse me, a bit far-fetched!”

“It does, doesn’t it? But I do believe that it is worth investigating.”

Deciding that he had heard enough, Silandor blanked out their voices again, concentrating on the scents that he could taste in the air of the auditorium. Instead of the fractious discontent and resentment he had become used to on this long voyage, the Commander could detect little more than the - tantalizing - aftertaste of live insects. True, this was heavily disguised by the odour of so many Oortelians in a confined space, but Silandor had become long accustomed to this - he no longer noticed it - unless he actively tried to. Mostly, he just got the impression that these dedicated people were - satisfied? Vindicated? They gave off a subtle aroma that… they were pleased. (Perhaps he should have enlisted their assistance earlier, but how could he have known how events would transpire?)

A new voice distracted him. “Thadokta!’ (It was the Archivist First, naturally!) ‘You mentioned that the full records that you have discovered may be made available to us. Are you suggesting that you might withhold that information from us?”

Looking at the Visi-Sphere as Dokta replied, Silandor believed that he was beginning to recognise some of the alien’s facial contortions. He looked rather uncomfortable and evasive as he replied. “Well, not me personally, Valmik. I do not believe that is my decision to take”

The Archivist immediately turned to Silandor. “Is it your decision, Clade Commander?” He asked, suspiciously.

Feeling sure that he understood just what Dokta was alluding to, Silandor decided to accept the blame, at least for the present. “My apologies Archivist First, but as Commander of this mission, I am bound by my orders. Any and all such information discovered, must first be cleared by Fleet Intelligence. I personally have no say in the matter, but I am sure that once the data has been cleared, it will be made available.”

“Hmmph!’ Valmik snorted, clearly expressing his displeasure. But the waves of anger and suspicion that the Commander had been expecting did not materialise. Instead, the Archivist simply addressed the coms-wand again, saying, ‘I trust that you heard that, Thadokta? Now do you understand why it is so important that we of the enclaves should be on that ship?”

On the Visi-Sphere, Dokta was clasping both hands about his lower face, tapping his forefingers against the fleshy protuberance at its center. Lowering them, the alien seemed to look straight into Silandor’s eyes, as he asked, “Clade Commander? Are you ready?”

“Yes, Dokta,’ Silandor replied, inwardly cursing his use of the man’s given name, instead of the honourific. ‘I do believe I am.” Feeling much more confident than he had anticipated, the Clade Commander rose to his feet to make the announcement.

 

The Archivist First had decided to shelve the issue of information distribution, for the time being. He felt confident that, now that Silandor had actually witnessed how valuable the enclaves’ contributions could be… Well, perhaps the man would be more amenable to reasoned discourse. It had been good to see the Commander taken down a peg or two by Ixtlequay! Of course, the crafty old star-seeker had known his identity all along - she had simply fired off a few shots from behind the battlements of advanced age. What had surprised Valmik most, however, was how the Clade Commander had taken it in such good part! He was obviously aware of her identity, and had treated the old lady with genuine respect. Valmik very much doubted that many others could talk to Silandor in that manner. At least, not without getting their head handed to them!

Observing the Commander rise to his feet, after that most curious exchange with Thadokta, Valmik could almost feel the energy radiating off the big man. (This should be interesting, he thought.)

“Fellow Oortelians,’ the Commander began, ‘…and note my use of that term, for we now know that we are not alone. We now know that our galaxy, and maybe even the further reaches of the universe, can contain other sentient life-forms. How will we react, if and when we encounter them? I believe that we have set a good precedent, with Thadokta and his human friends!’

(Valmik was not alone in agreeing with this sentiment, and a susurration of approval wafted around the amphitheater.)

‘We have been able to work together, to cooperate for our mutual benefit, and the advancement of knowledge!’ Silandor allowed himself a dramatic pause, as if carefully weighing the consequences of his next words. ‘You all know that I have been less than honest with you - at least I have been honest about that! - I truly believed I was acting in everyone’s best interests… So you will no doubt be unsurprised, when I admit to holding back one more secret...’ The Archivist First was surprised when Silandor, apparently anticipating his involuntary resurgence of distrust, gripped his shoulder firmly. ‘However, I want you all to bear this in mind. Your reactions to what I am about to tell you - will prove if I was wrong in doing so, or not.”

Silence reigned. Noticing movement at the corner of his eye, Valmik looked back at the Visi-Sphere. Thadokta was nodding, apparently in approval, as he listened to the Clade Commander’s speech. For his part, Silandor seemed satisfied with the non-response, so continued. ‘Much of what Thadokta has just told us is news to me, also. But inferring from what I did know, I can tell you that only five of the crew were aboard the destroyed part of that ship. The pilot was… frozen in time, somewhere on the half that survived.

‘He is now awake, and I think that you should meet him.”

The Clade Commander directed everyone’s attention to the Visi-Sphere, before sitting down on the floor again. All eyes were glued to the view as Thadokta, making a hand clapping gesture, nodded decisively. The image inside the globe blurred for a few moments, before refocusing on an Oortelianoid figure in a strange vac-suit. It was against a blank background, so there was no indication of scale. Until one noticed that it held a gloved hand to its chest, perhaps in some form of salute… and standing on the back of that hand was Specialist Third Palasar!

The reaction in the auditorium was in stark contrast to that which had greeted the initial appearance of Thadokta. Instead of pandemonium, a deep hush blanketed the room. Valmik wasn’t even sure that anyone was actually breathing! This was just well, for Palasar immediately began speaking.

“Fellow Oortelians! It is my great pleasure to introduce to you, the Captain and pilot of this vessel, Aleph Null!”

The deafening silence that greeted this announcement was broken by a deep baritone voice. “Greetings to you all.’ it said in recognisable Oortelian. ‘Clade Commander Silandor. As this is a formal meeting, I would be addressed as Captain Aleph.” The Ancient, for Valmik found himself unable to believe that the Captain could be anything else, leaned forward slightly as he lowered Palasar gently out of sight. In that brief moment, he was startled to realise that he could see a clear reflection in Aleph’s helmet visor. It was the Tec recording the visi-com images, of course. She appeared to be standing on the armrest of a huge chair. As Silandor replied to the greeting, Valmik was deeply glad that he was not required to speak yet. (He wasn’t sure that he could!)

“Greetings to you, also, Captain Aleph,’ the Clade Commander said, with enviable calm. ‘I would like to offer an official apology, on behalf of the Oortelian Hegemony, for the unfortunate misunderstanding earlier. I request that we put the matter behind us. You have here the opportunity to address our finest minds, and believe me, they are keen to hear your story. Although Thadokta has done some fine work with your records, are you able to expand on what he has presented? You will not be interrupted.

‘Please?”

It was very difficult to tell what was going on behind that blank, golden screen. It was almost a shock when Captain Aleph began to speak. “Yes, he has been very helpful. You have to understand, much of what Thadokta uncovered… It came as news to myself, also. I am still having difficulty coming to terms with this experience, but I shall do my best.

‘Firstly, although I have no understanding of the technology, it is true that I have been in an isolation chamber all this time. However, what you may not understand is, practically no time at all has passed for me. As far as I could tell, I left my chamber only moments after entering it. To discover that half my ship was gone, along with my entire crew - my friends - I think it drove me a little bit mad for a while. Now, to discover that my entire civilisation - my entire species - has been extinct for five billion years: when I left Home less than six months ago… I cannot even begin to process that!

Valmik tried to picture himself in that situation, how it might feel… but it just wouldn’t parse. He shuddered in sympathy, and from the looks of introspection he saw around him, concluded that his reaction was not exclusive.

“As far as this ‘time anomaly’ business that has been bandied about,’ Captain Aleph continued, ‘I cannot help. I was not aware of it. But I can confirm what Thadokta said about myself and my crew. We were the end product of generations of genetic engineering. However, we coexisted with our baseline progenitors, and never asked why…’ He became very still for a moment, then brought his hand up, as if to touch his own face, before remembering that he was wearing an all concealing helmet. The giant appeared to study the hand briefly, as if not recognising what it was.

Valmik had the horrible thought that the Ancient might still be ‘a little bit mad’, but Captain Aleph lowered his arm. Straightening his shoulders, the pilot started again.

“I am grateful to the Clade Commander, for accepting responsibility, but I believe that Thadokta was actually leaving it to my discretion. As to whether I would share my data with you or not, I mean. I can assure you, I will be happy to make my files available to you - now that Thadokta has managed to decipher them for me. You see, even I would not have access to this information, were it not for his assistance. And that of his companions, Zoee in particular…”

As he was speaking, Captain Aleph appeared to be looking around for something. Finally, he tilted his whole upper body, so that he could look down to his right. But he jerked back, presumably in surprise, as a horrendously loud - and indescribably unpleasant - noise erupted from the speakers around the auditorium. Tec-Op Imanol reacted commendably quickly, despite his own pain, and slammed the volume dial to zero.

But the damage had already been done. As everyone in the amphitheater collapsed in pain or shock, only Silandor had reacted faster. Clamping his hands to his tympanic membranes, almost before he was aware that he needed to, Silandor remained conscious for a little longer. Long enough to see the swaying view on the Visi-Sphere tilt forward, providing a vertiginous sensation of falling helplessly…

Before everything blanked out…


	36. Chapter 36

EPILOGUE ONE

Leaning back into his armchair, after explaining to Jamie and Zoe what he had discovered about the Vault of Memories, and what it really contained - the Doctor braced himself for their response. It wasn’t long in coming. But he was surprised that only Jamie seemed upset, at least initially.

“But why did we leave them?’ demanded the young Scot vehemently, ‘we should have stayed to help, Doctor!”

He would have said more, but Zoe laid a restraining hand on his arm, with a quiet request. “Please, Jamie, I need to ask the Doctor something…”

“But we have to go back, Zoe!”

“Please, Jamie…”

Despite his agitation, the Highlander was unable to refuse his friend, and he visibly calmed himself down. Taking this opportunity, Zoe turned to look up at the Doctor. “It was ‘Humanity’s Hope’, wasn’t it, Doctor?” Her voice held a bleak emptiness that chilled the Doctor to the core.

He blinked, taken aback by Zoe’s perspicacity. “Er… Yes, Zoe. However did you guess that, my dear?”

“It wasn’t a guess, Doctor,’ Zoe replied, sounding very sad.

‘I was never very much good at history, it just didn’t interest me that much. But I remember the three sleeper ships that were launched from near-Earth orbit over the turn of the century. The first was ‘Mankind’s Dream’, in 1996, then ‘The Peoples Optimism for a Glorious Future’, in 2001. The last to be sent out was ‘Humanity’s Hope’. She was the last great spaceship to leave Earth before the development of the Space Drive. There were over 500 people aboard her.”

The Doctor watched as Zoe began finger-tracing patterns on the floor, seemingly lost in thought. “Ah, well, I see…”

Zoe cut him off sharply, for the first time allowing the Doctor to see just how truly angry she was. “I’m not finished yet, Doctor! When I absorb information… I never forget it! I had to be aware of those ships, because it was one of my monitoring duties aboard the Wheel. Earth Central had extensive records… The sleeper program was mothballed when the Space Drive was developed, but as soon as they could be built, surveillance drones were launched - to locate and observe those that had already set out.

‘Dream’ and ‘Optimism’ were found before I was born, but ‘Hope’ had apparently been lost. When I was assigned to Station W3, the search was still ongoing. One of my duties was to record any reports from the drone that was searching for her, so I made sure that I knew as much as I could. But I never received any reports from the drone-ship, anyway.”

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably in his chair, as she fixed an accusatory glare on him. “Ah… Yes… I see. Um… well at least now you know why, Zoe! I mean, mystery solved and all that!” This was a far more personal response to his revelation than he’d been expecting. It didn’t make the prospect of justifying his decision any less daunting - if anything, much more so - he just hoped that he could make them both understand his reasons.

 

When he had passed the attention over to Null, the Doctor had made a rather undignified descent from the pilots’ seat - fortunately, Jamie had been there to help him down. Gripping the brawny young man by the arm, the Doctor had then rushed back into the Tardis. Before Jamie had time to question his actions, the Doctor had quickly confirmed that all of the information had been transferred to Null’s data chip, and purged from the Tardis’ computer banks. As a (rather lame, he had to admit) excuse, the Doctor had then got his friend to hold up the chip, whilst he disconnected all the leads. (Except the one connected to Null’s wrist-comp, of course.)

After swiping the Oortelian storage crystal off the console, the Doctor had snatched the chip from a bewildered young Scot, and dashed outside again. Placing the chip by the giant spaceman’s wrist, he tossed the crystal to Palasar - then he grabbed hold of a rather startled Zoe, dragging her back into the Tardis and slamming the door. Even as she and Jamie started to protest, the Doctor had dashed over to the console and activated the dematerialisation circuit. “Just do you best, old girl!” he had said encouragingly, before turning back to face the music. Taking a seat once more in the armchair - that he had just decided was his favourite - the Doctor had suggested that his companions might also want to take a pew… While he... 

Explained…

Eventually, as he unraveled the unbelievable story, Zoe and Jamie had sat down on the floor before him.

Now they were looking at him like children who didn’t like the story they had just been told, because it didn’t have a happy ending. (Or any kind of ending, come to that!) He sighed and leaned forward, so that his arms were resting on his knees, clasped hands wagging for emphasis. “What you both have to understand,’ he sighed slowly, ‘is that we had no say in whatever is going to happen between Null and the Oortelians.”

“But I thought that was what you did!’ Zoe objected, ‘help people!”

“Well, yes, Zoe,’ the Doctor agreed quietly, ‘in the normal run of things… I do try my very best! But only when there is a clear and definable threat to counter - like when the Cybermen attacked your space station, or… I showed you the Daleks with the thought-scanner, Zoe, remember? You still wanted to travel with us. But there have been so many other evils to face! Jamie will tell you.”

“Aye, Zoe!’ Jamie agreed enthusiastically, shifting around on his rump to face her, ‘it’s no’ just Daleks and Cybermen, not by a long shot! When I first met the Doctor we had tae deal wi’ the Sassenach Redcoats…”

The Doctor hurriedly interrupted, clearing his throat forcefully. “That’s not quite the kind of example I had in mind, Jamie. The English were not irredeemably evil, even in your time!”

Jamie shot the Doctor a look that clearly stated that he might have a thing or two to say about that! But then he shrugged it away, turning to face Zoe once again. “Well, mebbe they’re no’ as bad as the Daleks… But Zoe! One time we landed on a planet where these great big crab things, the Macra, were trying to take over! They were trying to gas everybody! Then there was the Great Intelligence with its robot Yeti - Abominal Snowmen, ye ken? We had a fair nasty time, with that thing trying to take over the whole world! And if you think that’s bad - what about the Ice Warriors! Men from Mars! They were green, right enough, but they were no’ so little! Great hulking beasties they were, in armour!”

Jamie was pleased to see Zoe’s eyes growing wider and wider as he spoke, so didn’t notice the Doctor wincing. “Oh, there were a couple of your run ‘o’ the mill Sassenachs, to be sure. One evil wizard tried to turn Polly into a fish! Can ye cried it? And another time, there was this power mad dictator who looked exactly like…”

“Yes, well, that’s quite enough for now, Jamie. I think that Zoe gets the picture.”

“But… ah havnae even told her about the seaweed monster yet, Doctor!”

Zoe, who was goggle-eyed by now, suddenly frowned, and exclaimed in angry exasperation. “But surely that’s the whole point! Isn’t it? Everywhere you go, you help to put things right! How could you leave all those people on Humanity’s Hope behind like that?”

“No, Zoe,’ the Doctor countered, trying for his most reasonable tone, ‘the point is that in all of those situations… There was actually something that needed to be ‘put right.’ In this particular case, there is no enemy to be defeated. There is no wrong to be addressed, no evil menace to be thwarted. It isn’t any of our business, don’t you see?”

“But what about the people in that vault thing? On Null’s ship? I agree with Zoe!” Jamie almost shouted.

“Whatever happens to them, if they are still alive, and if they can - or even should - be ‘revived’ or whatever… that is not our decision to make! They shouldn’t even be here… Or there… Their very existence is practically a statistical impossibility!”

“But they’re human beings!” Zoe shouted, frustrated almost to the verge of tears.

The Doctor lowered his face into hands and stayed in that position for some time, and when he looked up again his face was a picture of pain and remorse. “I know, Zoe. I am very much aware of that.’ He sighed deeply. ‘I thought that you, at least, would have some idea of the timespan we were looking at…”

“Hey! What do you mean by that, Doctor?” Jamie asked indignantly.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Jamie! That was thoughtless of me. Let me try to approach this from a different perspective…’ Leaning back into his armchair again, the Doctor tented his fingers before his chin ruminatively, then began. ‘The catastrophe we encountered, that evidently brought us to Null’s ship, delivered us much further than I have ever travelled, both in time and distance. Whatever circumstance that caused the people aboard Humanity’s Hope to end up where they did… That must have been an equally incomprehensible journey. Remember… those that Null referred to as his ‘progenitors’ had already drifted very far from baseline humanity.

‘Nothing lasts forever, my friends. Races… Civilisations… Countries, Kingdoms, Empires - even Galactic Empires. They all pass away. Even Confederations of thousands of civilised worlds have succumbed to the predations of time, and they were the fortunate ones! What chance does a species have, if its entire genepool is confined to a single planet? I’m talking about deep time here, of course - a few hundred million years is the blink of an eye in comparison. But… I think that I must be brutal here, so I’m sorry if this upsets you…

‘When we stepped out onto the flight deck of Null’s ship, the Universe outside it was very, very old. The Oortelians had explored far, but found no other sentient lifeforms… or none that they recognised as such, at least. I have no doubt that there are others for them to encounter eventually, but in their Universe… The Daleks are no more, the Cybermen are long gone - Ice Warriors aren’t even a distant memory… And if there are any remnants of humanity still clinging on to existence, they will have evolved beyond all recognition. In the Oortelians universe - human beings no longer exist, I’m afraid.”

Jamie waited for Zoe to say something, but she remained silent. “But surely, Doctor, that’s exactly why we should have stayed to help revive those people… to give us humans another chance, eh?” He asked cautiously.

“No!’ The Doctor shouted, his voice cracking with anguish as he pounded one fist against an arm of his chair. ‘That’s exactly why we should not interfere! Whatever decisions are made back on that ship, they are not ours to make! More importantly, it wasn’t my decision to make… Can’t you see that? As much as I like humans, you know that I am not human, Jamie! Neither am I a God! I simply do not have the right to tamper with the flow of history at such a fundamental level…”

He lowered his head, as if ashamed by this admission.

At a loss for words to express his mixed emotions, Jamie was startled when Zoe leapt to her feet and ran from the control room. His instinctive reaction was to follow her, to check that she was alright, but the Doctor laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “No, Jamie, leave her be,’ he murmured quietly. Gazing sadly after his newest travelling companion, he added. ‘I didn’t handle this very well, did I?” Jamie didn’t think the Doctor was actually asking him, so didn’t reply.

Standing slowly from his armchair, the Doctor kept his hand on Jamie’s shoulder, almost as if he needed something to lean on. The little man looked much older, somehow, as he shuffled across to the console and began checking various doodads and geegaws. “Well, there is no going back now, anyway, Jamie.’ He said. ‘I just hope that the Tardis doesn’t have too much trouble getting to know the Vortex again.” The shaken Highlander boosted himself to his feet, surprised at just how wobbly his legs were.

As he joined the Doctor at the console, his strange friend looked up at him pensively.

“Tell me, Jamie, have you ever heard of the dinosaurs?”

“No, Doctor, ah cannae say I have.”

The Doctor’s eyes drifted away. He just stared, as if hypnotized, at the steady motion of the time rotor.

Then he looked down at the console and sighed, “A story for another day, perhaps…”


	37. Chapter 37

EPILOGUE TWO

 

It came as a great shock to Null when the Doctor’s blue box began shrieking and wailing raucously, and appeared to be fading in and out of existence. The effect on Palasar was even more extreme. The friendly alien female was rolling around, amidst shattered crystalline fragments, clutching her head with both hands. Just as he thought of the other lizard-people, he saw Choltz diving headlong from his chair’s armrest. Null managed to catch the girl before she hit the deck, but he could see no sign of the larger alien. He hoped it was alright!

He placed Choltz gently down, then swiftly moved to assist Palasar. Hopefully she wasn’t cutting herself, but he wanted her out of that shrapnel, just to be sure. A most alarming thought struck him. As soon as he was sure both girls were as safe as he could make them, Null hurriedly examined his wrist-comp. To his great relief, the other part of his data-chip was hanging from it by the tiny wire that the Doctor had used. He still had all of the decrypted records!

By now, the horrible noises had faded away - as had the Tardis itself! Still not quite able to believe it, Null patted the area of the deck where it wasn’t. A sensation of betrayal began to creep up his spine, distinctly itchy and unpleasant. They had abandoned him! After all the help that the Doctor and his friends had given, so freely and enthusiastically…

Null had not expected such callousness from them. Particularly Zoe. Getting to know the tiny girl, however briefly, had been the only good thing to happen since he awoke.

Before sadness could overwhelm him, Null looked down to see if he could make the two females more comfortable. To his immediate alarm, they were now both very still. Making sure not to damage the wire dangling from his wrist-comp, Null used his gloved hand to carefully pick Palasar up, then laid her in his uncovered palm. Closing his fingers around her gently, he released the breath he hadn’t been aware of holding. By the minute but steady rhythm of her own breathing, he could tell that she was simply unconscious.

Just as he began to relax, wondering if he should get up to check on the larger male, an even more disturbing thought hit him - almost like a physical blow! “Clade Commander Silandor!’ Null called out urgently. ‘Can you still hear me? Can you still understand me?”

There was no reply. Perhaps they had also been affected by the noise of the Tardis’ departure, just as the girls had been? He desperately hoped so! Not wanting to consider the possibility that, absent the proximity of the Doctor’s box, he may be unable to communicate - Null pondered his options. As his gaze focused on the sleeping forms below him, he suddenly remembered the special helmet that Choltz wore. Handling her just as gently as he had Palasar, the pilot carefully positioned her on the palm of his hand - so that when he enfolded her in his grip, he was able to hold her at arm’s length. Without debating the morality of using her unconscious body as a microphone, Null tried again.

“Hello, Clade Commander Silandor. This is Captain Aleph! Are you receiving this? Can you understand what I am saying? Is everybody alright over there? Please respond, if you can!”

He was listening for a reply from the speakers on his master control board, so was surprised to hear a weak cry of “Captain Aleph!’ from the seat. As he watched, the male… Faramandar! - climbed rather groggily onto the armrest. ‘The Commander say’s that he can hear you well enough now, but many of the people there are still unconscious. We can understand you perfectly well… What happened?”

“The Doctor left.”

“Excuse me?” Faramandar asked, on his own behalf.

“His Tardis - the blue box - that is what made that noise! It just disappeared! The Doctor and his friends are gone! Your young ladies are unconscious, but alright, as far as I can tell. I think that Palasar may have some minor abrasions… it looks like she dropped that crystal thing you sent over. It must have shattered. I do not have the facilities, or the ability, to treat people of your size. Can you send any medical personnel over?”

Faramandar hesitated before replying, evidently listening to his Commander. “You would permit that?”

“Of course!’ Null almost shouted, only just managing to restrain himself. ‘I have no idea if Palasar actually has any such injuries, but I certainly don’t wish any harm to come to her. Send your medics, you have my permission.”

Faramandar nodded as he received the response on his private channel, then wearily lowered himself to sit on the edge of the armrest. It was difficult to believe that this was the same man who had been tossing Choltz around - as if she weighed no more than a stray gust of air - only moments earlier! “My Commander sends his thanks, Captain. Also, he requests that, for the moment, you put Tec-Op Choltz down. The image he is receiving on the Visi-Sphere is a little unsettling. It looks, from the reflection in your helmet, like you are holding her corpse.”

Null hurried to comply, annoyed that he had forgotten about his reflective visor again. “Can the Commander still hear me?” He asked as he placed Choltz next to Palasar.

“Oh, yes. Clade Commander Silandor informs me that, as well as summoning medics to see to members of the enclaves, a team will be dispatched to attend to… us. I had to advise my Commander that I am… currently in no condition to guide them. Do you have any suggestions, Sir?”

“Yes.’ Null replied simply, rapidly keying some instructions to his wrist-comp. ‘I am opening all the security doors leading here, they are unlikely to get lost… I trust that the Commander understands that your weapons only irritate me?”

“Of course, Captain. Medical supplies only.’ Faramandar, hesitated, then forced himself to his feet again. ‘I have a personal request, Sir. I do not think that I can get down easily, just yet, but I would like to check Specialist Palasar - and Tec-Op Choltz - personally.”

“Then allow me to assist you.” Null replied, offering the palm of his hand to the soldier. Faramandar, displaying much more trust than Null would have expected previously, calmly accepted.

As he stepped off Null’s hand and made his way towards the unconscious females, Faramandar stopped, looking back up at Null. “Thank you, Captain.’ He said, ‘Commander Silandor says that I should take control of the visi-com unit - do you have any objections, Sir?” When Null just waved the question away, the Ghost First knelt down by the females and checked them over carefully. As far as Null could tell, he seemed to be satisfied with their condition. After carefully removing the helmet from Choltz’ head, he strode back towards Null. Evidently, he felt much stronger already. “Captain Aleph! I am sure that you will be pleased to hear that both my crewmates are well. They should recover soon. Specialist Palasar is unharmed. I personally believe that the attention of a medical team would only cause her embarrassment. I have informed Commander Silandor, but he says it is your decision, Sir!”

Null considered this for a moment, surprised at the soldiers’ confidant assessment. “Very well, if you are sure. Are the med-team prepared to turn back?”

“They haven’t even reached the contact craft yet, Captain.”

“Very well. How does Commander Silandor wish to proceed?”

“Wait one, Sir.” Faramandar listened with his head cocked to one side for a short while, occasionally nodding to himself, then looked back up at Null. “Commander Silandor respectfully requests that we break communications for a short time. Apparently he is deeply concerned about Astronomer First Ixtlequay, and wishes to attend her personally. He would like to postpone any further discussion, until members of the enclaves are in a condition to hear… whatever is said. Sir.”

“That sounds reasonable enough. I sincerely hope that the Astronomer First recovers. And everyone else, of course.”

“Communications have been severed, Captain Aleph.”

Reversing the instructions he had previously entered into his wrist-comp, Null allowed his gaze to fall on the comatose females. Suppressing a sigh, he ventured… “So. It’s just you and me, for the moment, Ghost First Faramandar. Whatever shall we talk about?

‘I know! Perhaps you could tell me why you call yourself a Ghost?

‘It seems to me that I have much more right to that name.”

 

It took a surprisingly short time for the Oortelians to recover, Null was relieved to see. Faramandar seemed to grow stronger before his very eyes! Specialist Palasar and Tec-Op Choltz were sitting up - and complaining bitterly about their headaches - before the pilot and the soldier had said very much to each other. Faramandar immediately excused himself to offer assistance. Now that they were awake, he was able to check their eyes, and he quietly told them of the departure of the Tardis.

“Jamimikron is gone?” Asked a startled Choltz.

“They all are. No, Specialist, don’t get up.’ Faramandar added, placing a restraining hand on Palasar’s shoulder. ‘Rest and build your strength - that goes for you too, Technician. You may both consider that an order! There is not much that any of us can do at the moment, anyway. Many in the enclaves’ auditorium have also suffered, evidently.”

“That doesn’t seem right, Ghost First,’ Palasar started, sounding puzzled. ‘I mean, we were affected because we’re right here. Why would they… Oh. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Many of those people are rather old, aren’t they…?”

“Also, we don’t know how high the volume was on the Visi-Sphere, don’t forget.’ Faramandar reminded her. ‘Captain Aleph. Could you describe again how the Tardis left? Not just for these two - I am not entirely clear on the matter myself.”

So Null went over the disappearance of the small blue box again, although he didn’t really think he was explaining it very well. He had been busy with the two females for much of that short span of time. And he didn’t really know what had happened anyway. Still, the simple fact that the Tardis was no longer on the flight deck spoke volumes. “I’m sorry, that probably doesn’t make much sense to any of you!’ he said to the Oortelians. ‘Mostly because I don’t understand it myself! I wish they hadn’t left.”

Choltz and Palasar glumly agreed with that sentiment, but Faramandar confined himself to commenting, “I wish that they’d done it more quietly!” They all sat in silence for some time after that, each lost in their own thoughts.

Null thought about what he had learned from the Doctor’s highlighted files. He also began, he believed, to understand why the astonishing little man had kept his own speculations from the Oortelians - even though he had shared them with Null. He had been planning to leave all along! That was why he kept alluding to the mass of data available… Yet to be studied. He was just about to mention something about this theory to the others, when the MCB speakers crackled.

“Hello, Captain Aleph, this is Commander Silandor. We are ready to resume contact. Please acknowledge.”

“Greetings, Commander. I hope that your people are recovered.’ Even as he was speaking, both Choltz and Palasar leapt to their feet. Fortunately, the Ghost First had remained seated, so was able to catch them when they fell. ‘I am pleased to tell you that your Specialist and Technician have both regained consciousness, and appear to be recovering, although not as fast as they would like!”

“Thank you, Captain. That is good to know. We have only lost one of our number here - not permanently, thankfully! The Physician First insisted that she be cared for in his main facility. The prognosis is good, and I appreciate your concern.’

Perhaps already aware of what Silandor would say next, Faramandar had again retrieved the visi-com helmet. He appeared to be admonishing the females about something.

‘Are you able to restore visuals for us, Captain Aleph?” The Commander asked.

Null looked down at Faramandar, who was looking up at him expectantly. “One moment, Commander.” As he lifted the soldier once more, Null noticed that he was taking great care to obscure the visualiser’s lens. Before he had raised Faramandar all the way to the armrest, the Ghost First leapt into a twisting somersault, so that he landed facing towards the surprised pilot. Holding the helmet just below his chest, Faramandar remove his blocking hand with a flourish. “How does that look, Commander?” Null asked, feeling oddly encouraged by the soldiers antics.

“Ah, yes. We can see you clearly, Captain Aleph. For the benefit of those who missed it, could you repeat your account of what just happened to us?’ Null drew in a deep breath, and let it out as a sigh, but before he could speak…

‘No, of course that isn’t me, Valmik! I’m sitting right next to you, man!”

“I beg your pardon, Commander?” Null couldn’t help but ask.

“Oh! Apologies, Captain. Apparently nobody here has seen my brother before. Won’t happen again. Please, go ahead.”

So, once more, Null recounted recent events. This time he heard a few shouted questions, until Silandor instructed that the ‘communication wand’ be switched off. However, this time he felt that he had more to add. “I don’t think that Thadokta intended his departure to cause anyone physical pain. His blue box made a similar sound earlier, although not quite so loud. I assumed it was his translation device. I now suspect that the noise was evidence of a fault in his peculiar transport. Faramandar, could you show them where the Tardis used to be?’ As the Commander’s brother complied, Null continued. ‘I could be wrong, of course… But I was half expecting it to explode or something. I would have found that much less surprising, to be honest!

‘But I think that he left for a reason. Much of what Thadokta told you was vague or incomplete - deliberately so, I believe. He shared more with me. I would like to attempt to put it all together, but I would prefer not to be interrupted.

'Clade Commander?”

“Understood, Captain Aleph. Contact from this end will be reestablished on your request. Silandor out.”

Taking the Commander at his word, Null tried to organize his thoughts a little better before speaking. “Very well, here is what I can add. There was indeed a war, I fought in it. But this ship was intended to be a last resort, never did we truly believe that it would be necessary. Having seen those images of what became of my star system, I believe that we were misled - that somebody must have had some idea of how bad things might become. You see, the mission was for us to fly away from the war with a precious cargo - to reach a safe point and wait out the centuries. The same temporal isolation technology that provided us with this ability - our personal chambers - also sealed away the Vault of Memories.

‘We were told that, protected within the vault, were not only enough viable genetic samples and templates for our people to be reborn – but the technological expertise and information to implement the programs. I have since discovered, thanks to the Doctor, that this was also untrue…

‘Oh, the vault exists, and it still waits for the contents to be woken. But even though I now have the full instructions, an ‘operator’s manual’, if you will - I cannot access it. Allow me to clarify. When we were originally briefed, my crew and I were only ever shown the door to the vault. It had already been sealed, of course. This was no hardship, as it was intended that, once the war had been won, a rescue team would come to revive us all, and take responsibility for the vaults contents.”

Null held up his hand, close enough for Faramandar to capture a clear view of his wrist-comp, and the chip dangling from it. “This contains everything that I would need to open the vault.’ He lowered his hand, bringing his helmet back into view. ‘Unfortunately, I am too large to use it! I can’t imagine what cosmic coincidence brought her into my life, but without Zoe, I would never have retrieved this information. There is an anti-chamber to the vault, built for use by my progenitors. It is much too small for me to enter, and I do not believe that we were ever intended to.

‘But what they did not take into account, obviously, was the possibility of everybody dying!

‘No rescue team came.

‘So, as I mentioned, Zoe retrieved the information for me - it was she who discovered that my data-chip could be integrated into those systems. I was hoping that the Doctor would be able to help me apply the knowledge it contains but, I think now – that this is why they left.

‘Think about it. He kept dropping tantalising hints about why or how I ended up here. Why did the war start? What was this time anomaly and why did it happen? Why am I so much larger than my progenitors? How do the isolation chambers work?

‘None of this is of even slightly academic interest to me!

‘I don’t care!

‘But I get the impression that you might…

‘If the Enclaves’ are all that the Doctor has told me, then I suspect that he was dangling some bright, shiny treats before you, in the hopes of capturing your curiosity. But all I have ever really cared about was fulfilling my mission, which was to see that the contents of the vault survived - if at all possible. Now that I have a better understanding of just what I have been protecting… None of this is believable.

‘I do not believe that I am sitting here talking to you - five billion years into my own future! I do not believe that my friends are dead - that my bond-mate is dead - that my entire species is gone… Even the fact that we can understand each other is, at the very least, beyond my understanding. So… what I am about to tell you should fit in rather well…

‘The vault contains another ship, one that was ancient when my ancestors were alive! According to the Doctor, it is a sleeper ship carrying the last members of a forgotten race. He believed that my race could trace their own origins back to these… Survivors. How they came to our time and space, the Doctor could not say, he did not know. How I came to be in yours, I do not know.

‘So here we are.

‘All of those other questions I raised earlier are too complex and, frankly, of no interest to me…

‘What I want to know is… should the sleepers be revived?

‘And will you help me?

'I await your reply.”

Null noticed for the first time that Faramandar had sunk to his knees at some point, and was studying him with a completely unreadable expression. He felt a distant, almost insignificant tapping on one of his knees and looked down. Choltz looked like she was kicking him with all her strength, and Palasar was jumping up and down, waving her arms frantically. He had no idea just how long they had been trying to attract his attention, so he gathered one girl up in each hand. Bringing them closer to his helmet, he asked, ‘Yes?”

“We will help!” Cried Choltz.

“We want to help you, Captain Aleph!” Palasar shouted, simultaneously.

“Then you may still call me Null, my friends, whatever else is decided.” He gently lowered them to the deck once more, then awaited the official response. It didn’t take too long for Silandor to get back to him.

“Captain Aleph… Silandor here. I… cannot speak for the civilian authorities, but as a Clade Commander in the Oortelian Hegemony Fleet, I offer you my support, and the protection of my vessel. I will be putting forward my strongest recommendation to Fleet, that we should assist you in fulfilling your mission. There is, ah… Some debate amongst the enclave representatives… I request your continued patience.”

A deathly hush fell across the flight deck as Silandor stopped speaking. The alien girls had climbed into Null’s lap, perhaps as a show of support, but he found the reactions of the Ghost First even more remarkable. Carefully placing the helmet beside him on the armrest, the soldier stood - at what could only be considered attention - and gave a very respectful nod of his head. Feeling a deep surge of unanticipated gratitude, the pilot tilted his own body forward in the closest approximation he could manage.

Then they waited.

 

Eventually, Null heard a slightly nervous sounding voice. “Captain Aleph? This is Archivist First Valmik, again, and I have been nominated to speak on behalf of the Enclaves of the Oortelian Hegemony.’ Valmik’s delivery grew in confidence. ‘We would be privileged to offer you our cooperation, and any assistance we can provide. And if I may, Ancient One… your species is not gone - we are still here.”

“Ah.’ Null felt a distinct chill at those last words. ‘About that…’ He began to release the seal on his helmet...

‘There is something that I need to show you…”


	38. Chapter 38

AFTERWORD

 

If you have actually read all the story before reaching this page - thank you very much! - I hope that you enjoyed it!  
I went slightly over the 5,000 word count originally intended, and it didn't end up anything like I expected from my own synopsis, so I thought that some people may find that amusing to read...

 

SIZE MATTERS - Synopsis

 

The Tardis materializes on the deserted flight-deck of a spaceship. Jamie, Zoe, and the Doctor tumble out, coughing in a cloud of smoke. The Tardis has been through a rough flight, the companions are relieved to be out.  
Until they look around. The Doctor worries that they may have been reduced in size somehow, as the ship is unreasonably large. After examining the immediate surroundings, they set off to explore.

Outside. Another craft is attached limpet-like to the hull. On board, a crew of alien archeologists, historians, and soldiers. They have been pumping atmosphere into the derelict, preparatory to boarding her. There is alarm when three unknown life-signs are registered, these ‘Tomb Robbers’ must be stopped.

Meanwhile, increasingly concerned at the large scale of the ship, the Tardis crew discover a strange anomaly. The Doctor speculates that it may be a Time-Lock, analogous to an air-lock, but presented as a solid wall of time. 

Zoe finds this idea preposterous.

As they discuss the matter and examine this 'time-lock', or time vault, suddenly they have company. The Vodians have found them, demanding explanations. As a heated exchange ensues, everyone is too involved to notice the obvious, until Jamie exclaims, “Hey! These laddies are nae bigger than us!”

Picking up on this the Doctor points out that the vessel was obviously not built by these Vodians, and requests clarification, resulting in the time travelers being escorted to the Vodian ship to prevent them interfering. The historians are pleased to explain that they believe the derelict to be the tomb of the last ruler of a now extinct race, providing a potted history. The archeologists intend to verify or disprove the myths and legends about a species that once inhabited Vodia before ‘The Devastation’ removed all trace.

After much discussion and argument, the Doctor agrees to help. The vault is opened. A giant living creature emerges, fully in scale with his vessel, and proceeds to terrorize everyone believing them to be vermin. (Note: He is only three times humanoid size, not a beanstalk giant.)

After the Doctor rectifies the initial misunderstanding, the giant, whose designation translates as God Warrior, requests details of his awakening, and what has passed during his time in the vault. It has been a frighteningly long time. Most of the Vodians beliefs are totally erroneous, although he does recognize distorted fragments. In fact, the God Warriors were a created, or built, species.

They were designed as Vodia’s protectors, but split into two factions. The resultant war on land and in space evidently resulted in catastrophe. God Warrior had been tasked with preserving his own factions’ pure genes by going into the time vault to be woken when his side won. But that never happened - everyone must have died - and it was millennia before the Vodians recovered to the level of spaceflight.

There is nothing for him on Vodia, but there is the possibility that the enemy Warriors had the same idea, so he elects to return to the vault. He will be there if this hypothetical enemy Warrior returns, and will provide aid when summoned.

The saddened Tardis crew depart, perhaps having witnessed the origins of a future legend.

 

SIZE MATTERS – Sample Text

 

“Wait a minute, why does it have to be Zoe?” 

“Yes, why me?” 

The Doctor smiled reassuringly at them both. “Well, Zoe, as I’m sure you will agree, I’m hardly the most agile of chaps at the best of times.” 

“I was meaning that I should be the one to go’, interrupted Jamie, ‘I was scaling bigger obstacles than this as a bairn, nae trouble!”

“And I have no doubt that you could do so here but, and please don’t take offence Jamie, but would you be able to understand the controls once you reached them?” 

(Pause.) “Ah, I see what you mean. I’m not saying that I couldnae do it mind, but Zoe does have the qualifications. Aye.”

Zoe had already reached this conclusion and turned to face the looming plinth of the pilot’s seat, secretly relieved that she was wearing a sensible spandex cat-suit, rather than one of her plastic mini-skirts. “Come on then Jamie, we should get a move on before the air gets unbreathable in here.” 

“Ah, dinnae fash yourself Zoe, I’ll have ye up there in two shakes of a lambs tail!”

Squatting down behind Zoe, Jamie got a firm grip on each of her ankles then stood to his full height, propelling Zoe upward as she ‘walked’ her hands up the seats base. The Doctor observed the procedure with some concern but evidently the surface was not quite as smooth as it had first appeared, for Zoe had no difficulty in finding hand-holds in the ridged material. Jamie glanced up to check on her and grinned mischievously. “It’s a good thing you weigh no more than a plucked Grouse Zoe! How are ye doing?” 

“I’m nearly there Jamie! There is a strap or belt or something hanging just over the edge, I think I can reach it if you can get me a little higher!” 

“No sooner said than done!’ quipped the brawny Scot, ‘hang on tae something now!”

The Doctor watched nervously as Jamie carefully placed Zoe’s feet on his shoulders, then working his thumbs under her slippers, raised her to arm’s length above his head. As Zoe reached the dangling strap and used it to haul herself up onto the seat the Doctor began clapping enthusiastically. “Oh well done Zoe! Splendid job Jamie! I must admit my hearts were in my mouth for a few moments there, I was quite lost for words!”

\--- A bit later ---

“What do you think you are laughing at, Jamie McCrimmon!” 

“I’m sorry Zoe! You look like a wee lassy sitting in her daddy’s chair up there, but I didnae mean to laugh!” Zoe self-consciously stopped swinging her legs over the edge of the huge seat and shot a quizzical look at the Doctor. 

“Oh dear, I rather think that we either have too much oxygen in here, or not enough! Tell me, Zoe, are you sure you can’t press any of those buttons?” 

“But I did tell you Doctor, they’re too big!” 

“Well try jumping up and down on a few, maybe one of them will let us out of here!” 

Jamie fell over...

 

Just a wee bit different from what I ended up writing, eh? :) ;)

 

DELETED SCENE

 

This is part of a fairly long sequence I dropped - because it didn’t fit comfortably into my timeline - and needlessly extended an already overly long story! (Also, given my layman’s misunderstanding of sciencey-wiencey stuff, I felt it best not to include any in the actual story!) Still, just in case you are a total glutton for punishment - here’s a bit more ‘stuff’ wot I wrote…

 

“Oh aye, the 'event horizon', of course,’ Jamie replied, nodding sagely. Then he reluctantly asked, ‘and what would one of those be, then?”

Zoe thought for a moment, chewing her lower lip. She had completely forgotten the educational gulf that separated them, and felt a little embarrassed at the oversight. Not wanting to confuse her freind further, Zoe decided to establish some common ground. “You know what 'gravity' is, don’t you, Jamie?”

“Of course I do, Zoe! Gravity is why you dinnae fall up when ye’ fall doon! And the gravity in the Moon isnae as strong as it is on the Earth, which is why you fall slower there - the Doctor explained it all to me.”

Zoe turned to stare goggle-eyed at the Doctor, who grinned sheepishly, then leaned towards her diffidently. “Do try not to get too technical, Zoe, I don’t think that we have time for a complete lesson.”

Frowning furiously in thought, Zoe nodded as she turned back to the young Scot. Then she smiled brightly as an analogy struck her, one that he should be able to relate to. “I know! Listen, Jamie… imagine a tiny speck, so small that it cannot be seen, but it is so heavy that it has a huge gravitational attraction. Now… picture it being encased by layers of invisible spheres, just like the layers of an onion. Can you see it?’ Jamie nodded gamely, frantically trying to envisage an invisible onion - although he did look slightly strained - so Zoe hurried on. ‘Okay then… the outermost layers aren’t too much of a problem… But as you pass through them towards that speck, the gravitational pull becomes increasingly stronger. However, so far you can still turn around and get away.”

Jamie nodded as if he understood. Feeling slightly more encouraged, Zoe smiled at him and carried on, making an approximate ball shape with her hands as she spoke. “Well, at a certain point, as you get ever closer to the center, you are going to reach a particular layer. Here the gravity is so strong that you will never be able to escape if you reach it, or pass through it. That’s the 'event horizon' of the black hole, you see?” Zoe looked up into the young Scots face hopefully, searching for that spark of understanding, only to feel her enthusiasm deflate. He looked entirely unconvinced, his whole face scrunched up in skeptical puzzlement.

“So… what you’re saying, Zoe,’ he said slowly, as if attempting to assemble his words as he spoke, ‘is that this tiny wee speck, so small that I cannae even see it, has got more gravity in it than the entire Earth?”

Zoe was about to explain that it would be a much stronger effect than that but, perhaps anticipating this response, the Doctor interrupted her smoothly. “I don’t think we need to go there, Zoe… not just now. If you would allow me…’ The Doctor treated Jamie to a huge grin; clapped his hands together and rubbed them enthusiastically, then asked cheerfully. ‘Now then, Jamie! Have you ever heard of the trapdoor spider?”

Jamie sent a puzzled frown in Zoe’s direction, but she just blinked in astonishment at this apparent non sequitur, so the brawny young Highlander shrugged, replying. “Well, I know what a spider is, Doctor, of course I do. But I havnae heard of any that use trapdoors.”

The Doctor was undeterred. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least, Jamie, they prefer much warmer climes than Scotland can provide! I expect you are more familiar with web-builders… and there are also some species that actively hunt their prey. But these clever fellows actually dig a burrow and build - as the name suggests - a trapdoor to hide it! Remarkable, is it not?” 

Without waiting for a response, the Doctor indicated an invisible circle around himself on the floor. “Now... Imagine that this is my burrow, and it is very well disguised - so if you were an insect it is unlikely that you would notice it.’ He crouched down in his imaginary burrow and fixed Jamie with a stare. ‘You see, I just sit here and wait for my prey to pass… And I am always hungry, so whenever I detect the presence of something that I might like to eat, I… pounce!” Both Jamie and Zoe jumped back in alarm, as the Doctor suited actions to words.

Remarkably, due to the Doctor’s unexpected dramatic flair, Jamie could almost imagine his friend jumping out of a hole in the ground. Such was the intent expression of ferocity on the Doctor’s face, the brawny Scot actually felt sympathy for this nonexistent insect, which the Doctor grabbed at the extent of his reach. And then, just as suddenly, the little man crouched back down into his imaginary hole. “You see, Jamie?’ asked the Doctor, cuddling his nonexistent prey to his chest, ‘this insect ventured within my range… and it will never escape! Because I… Er, I mean the spider… will eat it! This poor little chap ventured too close to my… the spiders… sphere of influence, d’you see?”

“Um…’ Jamie ventured cautiously, casting a slightly nervous glance towards Zoe, ‘so, these trapdoor spiders are nasty wee beasties then? I mean… they are wee, are they not?”

The Doctor looked distinctly disappointed. 

Throwing away his imaginary prey, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, before fixing his young friend with a calculating glare. “Ah, now, my boy! I haven’t told you everything yet!’ Jamie did his best to look fascinated, so the Doctor continued. ‘Right! What you need to realise is this! I - me being the spider, of course - only have a predetermined range of influence! Now let us consider a different scenario! (Jamie wasn’t too sure what a ‘sinario’ was, but chose not to mention that.) 

The Doctor feigned hearing a sound in the distance.

“Aha!’ he exclaimed, ‘I hear new prey approaching!’ Jamie shot a mystified look towards Zoe, but she just shrugged and examined her fingernails. She looked rather embarrassed. ‘Yes!’ cried the Doctor, ‘and it is a juicy morsel, I am sure!” Suddenly he leapt out of his imaginary hole again, stretching out to his furthest possible reach. Desperately he tried to grab hold of something that was just that bit too far away, his face horribly contorted with the effort. Eventually, with a heartrending groan of disappointment, he sank back to the floor in a sulk.

“Erm…’ Jamie inquired, feeling obliged to offer some comment, ‘did ye’ no’ catch the wee beastie then, Doctor?”

“No, Jamie,’ the Doctor replied, giving the Scot a crafty look, ‘it was just beyond my reach - beyond my event horizon! Do you see? If it had been close enough, I would have got it - but it was just that bit too far!” He gave Jamie a look full of import and significance, so the young Highlander gave in.

“Ah! I see what you mean, Doctor! The sleekit wee creature saw your invisible onion!

‘Dinnae fash yourself! I’m sure that there will be another one along, by and by!”

Zoe tried to disguise her laughter by faking a coughing fit, and staggered out of the Tardis with her hands clamped to her mouth.

;)


End file.
